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Updated: May 15, 2025
Would I give three false counsel now? Ride, sahib ride!" Bellairs turned away and looked at his charger, a big, brown Khaubuli stallion, named for the devil and true in temper and courage to his name; two men were holding him, ten paces off. "Such a horse I need this night, Sahib! Thy second charger can keep pace with the guns!"
It was Shaitan, young Bellairs' Khaubuli charger, with his haunches under him, plunging across the flagstones, through the black-dark archway, out on the plain beyond in answer to the long, sharp-roweled spurs of the Risaldar Mahommed Khan. Dawn broke and the roofs of old Hanadra became resplendent with the varied colors of turbans and pugrees and shawls.
Then some one drew the bolt and a horse's head a huge Khaubuli stallion's appeared, snorting and panting and wild-eyed. "Farward!" roared the Risaldar Mahommed Khan, kneeling on young Bellairs' winded charger. "Farm twos! Farward!"
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