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Updated: June 12, 2025
These horsemen of Alwa's rode, and looked, and laughed like soldiers, new-stripped of the hobble ropes of peace, and their very seat in the untanned saddles tight down, loose-swaying from the hips, and free was confirmation of Mahommed Gunga's words.
What more obvious than to reason that the man had gladly paid her, and had just as gladly ridden off, rejoicing at the thought that he could escape doing service? "So much," they argued, "for native constancy! So much for Mahommed Gunga's boast that he knew of men who could be trusted! And so much for Joanna's gratitude!"
ON the morning after Mahommed Gunga's daring experiment with Cunningham's nervous system he was anxious to say the least of it; and that is only another way of saying that he was irritable. He watched the Englishman at breakfast, on the dak-bungalow veranda, with a sideways restless glance that gave the lie a dozen times over to his assumed air of irascible authority.
Ismail!" he called, with a voice like a bell, that made King stare. The Afridi seemed to come out of a deep sleep and looked bewildered, rubbing his eyes and feeling whether his turban was on straight. He combed his beard with nervous fingers as he gazed about him and caught Rewa Gunga's eye. Then be sprang to his feet. "Come!" ordered Rewa Gunga. The man obeyed. "Did you see?"
"First, I must be informed on certain matters." Ali Partab still grinned, but the muscles of his face changed their position slightly, and it took no expert in physiognomy to read that questions he would answer must be very tactfully asked. "Ask on!" "You are Mahommed Gunga's man?" "Yes. It is an honorable service." "Did he order you to stay here?" "Here in this palace? Allah forbid!"
They were wonders of horses, half-Arab and half-native-bred, clean-limbed and firm worth more, each one of them, than all three of Mahommed Gunga's put together. "Are they good enough?" demanded Alwa. "My master will be satisfied," grinned Ali Partab. "Open the gate, then!" Alwa was peering through the blackness for a sight of firearms, but could see none.
King answered in the Pashtu tongue, for the "Hills" are polite, whatever the other principles. Rewa Gunga's face beamed down on him, wreathed in smiles that seemed to include mockery as well as triumph. Looking up at him at an angle that made his neck ache and dazzled his eyes, King could not be sure, but it seemed to him that the smile said, "Here you are, my man, and aren't you in for it?"
And Cunningham, on a tired mare, met him point to point. They fought over a quarter of a mile of ground, for Jaimihr proved to be as useful with his weapon as Mahommed Gunga's teaching had made Cunningham.
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