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He made a ten-year-long effort to learn the secret, but he failed. When he cut off the supply of oil for a time, there was A rebellion so close to Khabul gates that he thought better of it. Of gold and Abdurrahman, gold was the stronger. And I know where the Sleeper dug his gold!"
"I look like her man, too!" "Thou!" Ismail's scorn was well feigned if it was not real. "Thou chicken running to the hand that will pluck thy breast-feathers! Listen! Abdurrahman he of Khabul and may Allah give his ugly bones no peace! Abdurrahman of Khabul sought the secret of the Caves. He sent his men to set an ambush. They caught twenty coming out of Khinjan on a raid.
The twenty were carried to Khabul and put to torture there. How many, think you, told the secret under torture? They died cursing Abdurrahman to his face and he died without the secret! May God recompense him with the fire that burns forever and scalding water and ashes to eat! May rats eat his bones!" "Had Abdurrahman this?" asked King, touching the bracelet. "Nay!
"Nevertheless," said Ranjoor Singh, "my brother is a man with eyes and ears. What did my brother hear?" "They said their machine can send and receive a message from places as far apart as Khabul and Stamboul. Doubtless they lied," the Kurd answered. "Doubtless!" said Ranjoor Singh.
They tell me our wireless installation at Khabul, which connects us through Simla with Calcutta and the world beyond, is a very good one, yet it will only reach to Simla, although I should say it is a hundred times as large as yours, and although we have an enormous dynamo to give the energy as against your box of batteries."
There are better pickings here on the border, raiding now and then, and pocketing the gold of this Wassmuss between-whiles! Who wants the task of escorting a machine in a box to Khabul?" "Nevertheless," said Ranjoor Singh, "I know of a leader and his men who will undertake the task." "Who, then?" said the Kurd.
"They said they are on their way to Khabul," the Kurd continued, "there to receive messages from Europe and acquaint the amir and his ruling chiefs of the true condition of affairs." "How shall they reach Afghanistan?" asked Ranjoor Singh. "Does a road through Persia lie open to them?" "Nay," said the Kurd. "Persia is like a nest of hornets.
And why should such savages continue neutral if they were once persuaded that the winning side was that of the Central Powers? Nevertheless, Ranjoor Singh continued to grow more and more contented, and I wondered. Some of the men began to murmur. In that camp we remained, if I rightly remember, six days. And then came word from Habibullah Kahn, the Afghan amir, that we might draw nearer Khabul.
There isn't enough oil pressed among the 'Hills' to keep these caves going for a day. Where does it all come from?" She laughed, as a mother laughs at a child's questions, finding delicious enjoyment in instructing him. "There are three villages, not two days' march from Khabul, where men have lived for centuries by pressing oil for Khinjan Caves," she said. "The Sleeper fetched his oil thence.
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