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Buchan, John, 1875-1940

"The Half-Hearted"

There is
nothing to stop us but isolated garrisons of Gurkhas and Pathans, with a
few overworked English officers at their head. In a week we shall
command the north of India, and if we hold the north, in another week we
shall hold Calcutta and Bombay."
The chief nodded his head. Such far-off schemes pleased his fancy, but
only remotely touched his interest. Calcutta was beyond his ken, but he
knew Bardur and Gilgit.
"I have little love for the race," he said. "They hanged two of my
servants who ventured too near the rifle-room, and they shot my son in
the back when we raided the Chitralis. If ye and your friends cross the
border I will be with you. But meantime, till that day, what is my
duty?"
"To wait in patience, and above all things to let the garrisons alone.
If we stir up the hive in the valleys they may come and see things too
soon for our success. We must win by secrecy and surprise. All is lost
if we cannot reach the railway before the Punjab is stirring."
The mullah had ceased muttering to himself. He scrambled to his feet,
shaking down his rags over his knees, a lean, crazy apparition of a man
with deep-set, smouldering eyes.
"I will speak," he cried. "Ye listen to the man's words and ye are
silent, believing all things. Ye are silent, my children, because ye
know not. But I am old and I have seen many things, and these are my
words.


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