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Updated: June 11, 2025


A dozen native policemen, with their rifles and bundles, shouldered into the press of Punjabi farmers, Sikh craftsmen, and greasy-locked Afreedee pedlars, escorting with all pomp Martyn's uniform case, water-bottles, ice-box, and bedding-roll. They saw Faiz Ullah's lifted hand, and steered for it. 'My Sahib and your Sahib, said Faiz Ullah to Martyn's man, 'will travel together.

"I am sure it is Bullen," one of the officers said, "for when I came up suddenly behind him, today, I heard him whistling an English tune. Of course, it may have been played by the band when we were in camp, but whistling is not a common Punjabi accomplishment, and I don't know that I ever heard native boys whistle before.

"Do so. I shall be on thorns until I see him." In a few minutes the officer, a tall and stately Punjabi, entered. "Risaldar," Lisle said, "I know you were very much attached to my father." "I was, sahib." "Well, I want you to do something for me." "It would be a pleasure for me to do so, and you have only to ask for me to grant it, if it is in my power." "I think it is in your power," Lisle said.

'Perhaps it is a man, said Abdullah, finger in mouth, staring. 'Without doubt, returned Kim; 'but he is no man of India that I have ever seen. 'A priest, perhaps, said Chota Lal, spying the rosary. 'See! He goes into the Wonder House! 'Nay, nay, said the policeman, shaking his head. 'I do not understand your talk. The constable spoke Punjabi. 'O Friend of all the World, what does he say?

Exposed for hours to cannonade and musketry, unable to act from the nature of the ground, they never flinched from their post, forming a living target to the fire of the rebels. The same may be said of the Sikh and Punjabi cavalry, who displayed a coolness and intrepidity scarcely, if at all, less meritorious than that of their European comrades.

Whether Jaipur's precisely a health resort ?" "I'm not after health resorts. I'm after knowledge and a few other things. Not Jaipur first, anyway. The moment I get the official order of the boot I'm for Chitor." "Chitor?" Faint incredulity lurked in Desmond's tone. "Yes the casket that enshrines the soul of a race; buried in the wilds of Rajasthán. Ever heard tell of it, you arrant Punjabi?

The morning of February 3, 1915, the Turks advanced on the Ismailia Ferry, then held by Sikhs, Punjabi Rifles, a battery of Indian mountain artillery and Australian engineers, digging shelter pits as they moved forward, covered by two field batteries. Their advance was stopped by the British guns when they had come within 1,000 yards of the outpost line.

Coryndon explained his plan of coming and going when the streets were silent, and when he could do so without being noticed. If he came in the daytime and asked for alms, Shiraz was to open and call him in to receive food, but he would only do this in great emergency, as the beggar did not wish to establish any connection with the Punjabi.

Kim was guided to the Temple of the Tirthankars, about a mile outside the city, near Sarnath, by a chance-met Punjabi farmer a Kamboh from Jullundur-way who had appealed in vain to every God of his homestead to cure his small son, and was trying Benares as a last resort.

I think he had more to say, but at that minute Ranjoor Singh chose to turn on me fiercely and order me out of the room. "Tell them what you have heard!" he said in Punjabi, as if he were biting my head off, and I expect the German officer believed he had cursed me. I saluted and ran, and one of the Turkish officers aimed a kick at me as I passed.

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