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Updated: June 4, 2025
But they kept silence, though their eyes were busy; and presently through another smaller gate they all clattered into a hosh, or court, facing what obviously must have been the central citadel of Jannati Shahr. Bara Miyan pulled sharply on the red, silver-broidered reins and cut back the frothing lip of his barb.
Even the Master himself, tempered in the fires of war's Hell, sensed this tremendous potentiality of death as the tiny handful of white men galloped on and on behind Bara Miyan. Here the Legion was, hemmed and pent by countless hordes of fanatics whom any chance word or look, construed as a religious insult, might lash to fury. Five men remained outside.
This increased and grew more agitated. One by one, the imams gathered up the cloths, opened them and exhibited three bluish-black birds with vivid scarlet crests. The Master nodded. "It is an old trick," said he, indifferently. Bara Miyan made no answer. The imams drew knives from their belts of plaited goat-hide, and without more ado severed the birds' heads.
As she cradled his head up into her lap and drew the shelter of her burnous over it, she became rational again. Her hot, dry hand caressed his face. After a while he was blinking up at her. "Bara Miyan! Violator of the salt!" he croaked, and struck at her feebly. And after another time, she perceived that they were staggering on and on once more.
The direct, efficient way, however, in which Bara Miyan dealt with one held as an enemy, urged the Master to press forward the ceremony of giving and taking salt. At all hazards, safeguards against attack must be taken. Once more the Master addressed Bara Miyan: "Effendi! Our gifts are great to thee and thine. Great, also, is our magic. Let thine imams do their magic, and we ours.
Narrowly the Master eyed him, then nodded. Huge though this rebuff had been, and great as the loss must be, the Master realized the utter impossibility of coming to any terms with Bara Miyan on a gold basis. All the fanaticism of these people would resist this, to the death. Even to insist further might precipitate a massacre.
But as that night aboard Nìssr, when he had laid a hand on the woman's cabin door, something unknown to him seemed drawing him to her, making her welfare and her life assume a strange import. "Come, O Frank!" Bara Miyan was saying. The Olema's words recalled the Master to himself with a start. "Such food and drink as we men of El Barr have, gladly we share with thee and thine!"
Strange enough figures they made, black as coal, muscled like Hercules, and towering well toward seven feet, with arms and hands in which the sinews stood out like living welts. Their faces expressed neither intelligence nor much ferocity. Submission to Bara Miyan's will marked their whole attitude. "Sa'ad," commanded Bara Miyan, "seest thou this dog?"
Some fifteen minutes' riding, with no slackening of the pace and always on an upward grade toward what seemed the central citadel of Jannati Shahr, brought the party to an inner wall, forty feet high and pierced by a triple-arched gate surmounted by a minaret of golden lacery. Through the center arch rode Bara Miyan, now reining into a canter.
Old Bara Miyan would probably have given us a peck or two of them, for Myzab and the Great Pearl Star and the Black Stone, if those hadn't been destroyed " "How do you know they've been destroyed?" the major cried. "How do you know but what we'll be rescued, here?" "If the bombardment had been going to begin, I think we'd have heard something of it, by now.
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