Part 1 (1/2)
Winds of the World
by Talbot Mundy
THE WINDS OF THE WORLD
Ever the Winds of the World fare forth (Oh, listen ye! Ah, listen ye!), East and West, and South and North, Shuttles weaving back and forth Ahtless touch-can vision keen Hunt where the Winds of the World have been And searching, learn what rumors mean?
(Nay, ye who are wise! Nay, listen ye!) When tracks are crossed and scent is stale, 'Tis fools who shout-the fast who fail!
But wise men harken-Listen ye!
YASMINI'S SONG
CHAPTER I
A watery July sun was hurrying toward a Punjab sky-line, as if weary of squandering his strength on men who did not mind, and resentful of the unexplainable-a rainy-weather field-day The cold steel and khaki of native Indian cavalry at attention gleamed motionless between British infantry and two batteries of horse artillery The only noticeable sound was the voice of a general officer, that rose and fell explaining and asserting pride in his co as to the why of exercises in the mud Nor did he mention why the censorshi+p was in full force He did not say a word of Geriuht, Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh sat his charger like a big bronze statue He would have stooped to see his right spur bettor, that shone in spite of h he has been a h has neither lost his boyhood love of such things, nor intends to; he has been accused of wearing solid silver spurs in bed But it hurt him to bend much, after a day's hard exercise on a horse such as he rode
Once-in a rock-strewn gully where the whistling Hieon had taken hurried stitches over Ranjoor Singh's ribs without probing deep enough for an Afghan bullet; that bullet burned after a long day in the saddle And Bagh was-as the big brute's naer of a horse, unweakened even bywith terrific suddenness when his riderto eat agony at any time for the squadron's sake-for a squadron of Outram's Own is a unity to iven spurs a half-inch longer than the regulation As a soldier, however, he was careful of himself when occasion offered
Sikh-soldier-wise, he preferred Bagh to all other horses in the world, because it had needed persuasion,of a black beard-to hide anxiety-and ery-before the colonel-sahib could be er and accept his that expressed in any way his own unconquerable fire Most of all, however, he loved the squadron; there was no woh caeneral ceased speaking, and the British colonel of Outray beneath hand-polished hair and plastered dirt, sprang like a loosed hell-tantruht over clenched teeth as he ht hoould, heel, tooth and eye all flashi+ng, Bagh was forced to hold his rightful place in front of the squadron, precisely the right distance behind the last supernumerary of the squadron next in front
Line after rippling line, all Sikhs of the true Sikh baptisht of their officers ere European, Outra avenue of British troops; and neither gunners nor infantry could see one flaw in theiion
To the blare of , the Sikhs trotted for athe horses into barracks cool enough for watering
They reached stables as the sun dipped under the near-by acacia trees, and while the black-bearded troopers scraped and rubbed the h a task whose for less than death or active service that could keep hi every horse in the squadron before he ate or drank, or as h the day had been a hard one and the strain on the horses more than ordinary, his exaaped; the troopers signaled with their eyes as he passed, littleat each horse Almost before his back had vanished at the stable entrance, wonderment burst into words
”For the third time he does thus!”
”See! My beast overreached, and he passed without detecting it! Does the sun set the same way still?”
”I have noticed that he does thus each time after a field-day What is the connection? A field-day in the rains-a general officer talking to us afterward about the Salt, as if a Sikh does not understand the Salt better than a British general knows English-and our risaldar- the horses-is there a connection?”
”Aye What is all this? We worked no harder in the war against the Chitralis There is so in my bones that speaks of hen I listen for a while!”
”War! Hear him, brothers! Talk is talk, but there will be no war until India grows too fat to breathe-unless the past be remembered and we make one for ourselves!”
There was silence for a while, if a change of sounds is silence The Delhiof it froy and full attention Then, the East being the East in all things, a solitary; trooper picked up the scent and gave tongue, as a true hound guides the pack
”Who is she?” he wondered, loud enough for fifty men to hear
From out of a cloud of horse-dust, where a stable helper on probation cohtenment