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Updated: May 20, 2025
The Afridi's eyes furtively sought Rewa Gunga's and found no aid there. Watching the Rangar less furtively, but even less obviously, King was aware that his eyes were nearly closed, as if they were not interested. The fingers that clasped his knee drummed on it indifferently, seeing which King allowed himself to smile. "Never mind," he told Ismail. "It is no matter.
His tent was close by and he said to the young Afridi: "Hold my rifle a minute, while I fetch something from my tent." In one second the whole of that young Afridi's good resolutions failed him; the struggle of weeks had been in vain. Two rifles in his hand, not a soul near, the black night in front, and beyond his own village, and friends, and a warm welcome!
After that there was no more need to stop at intervals and beat the torch against the wall to make it burn brightly, for the wind fanned it until the flame was nearly white. Ismail kept looking back to bid King hurry and never paused once to rest. "Come!" be urged fiercely. "This leads to the 'Heart of the Hills'!" And after that King had to do his best to keep the Afridi's back in sight.
While she sang, the guard to whom she had whispered forced a way through the ranks of the standing crowd, and came behind Ismail. He tweaked the Afridi's ear to draw attention, for like all the others like King, too Ismail was listening with dropped jaw and watching with burning eyes.
She smelt out a good one! Hee-yee-yee! This is a man after my heart! Hee-yee-yee! God preserve me! God preserve me to see the end of this! This one will show sport! Oh-yee-yee-yee!" Suddenly be closed with King and hugged him until the stout ribs cracked and bent inward and King sobbed for breath among the strands of the Afridi's beard.
The boar turned again, marked the prostrate man, and with a savage gleam in its little eyes charged the Maharajah, its gleaming ivory tusks, six inches long, as sharp and deadly as an Afridi's knife. But at that moment a shout made the boar hesitate, and Raymond dashed in on it at racing speed, driving his spear so deeply into its side that, as he swept on, the tough bamboo broke like match-wood.
The struck man sank to his knees, but the other turned in time to guard the next blow with his forearm; he seized a good fistful of the Afridi's bandages and landed hard on his naked foot with the heel of an ammunition boot.
Dumb misery was stamped on the Sikh's face, the despair of evaporated savagery on the Afridi's. "Jagut Singh!" said the risaldar-major, louder this time; and the trooper looked up, almost as if hope had been that instant born in him. "Jagut Singh!" The trooper grinned. A white row of ivory showed between his black beard and mustache.
"I believe that I owe my life, in the first place, to the Afridi's surprise at my sending off Colonel Houghton on my horse." "No wonder he was surprised, Mr. Bullen. It was a splendid action; and in reporting your death, I spoke of it in the warmest terms; and said that, had you returned alive, I should have recommended you for the V.C.
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