Mundy King of the Khyber Rifles

1. Auflage 2018
ISBN: 978-1-4554-0523-7
Verlag: Seltzer Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 449 Seiten

Classic adventure novel. According to Wikipedia: 'Talbot Mundy (born William Lancaster Gribbon) (April 23, 1879 - August 5, 1940) was an English writer. He also wrote under the pseudonym Walter Galt. Born in London, at age 16 he ran away from home and began an odyssey in India, Africa, and other parts of the Near and Far East. By age 29, he had begun using the name Talbot Mundy, and a year later arrived in the United States, starting his writing career in 1911. His first published work was the short story 'Pig-sticking in India', which describes a popular, though now outlawed, sport practiced by British forces. Mundy went on to become a regular contributor to the pulp magazines, especially Adventure and Argosy. Many of his novels, including his first novel Rung Ho!, and his most famous work King of the Khyber Rifles, are set in India under British Occupation in which the loyal British officers encounter ancient Indian mysticism. The novels portray the citizens of Imperial India as enigmatic, romantic and powerful. His British characters have many encounters with the mysterious Thugee Cults. The long buildup to the introduction of his Indian Princess Yasmini and the scenes among the outlaws in the Khinjan Caves clearly influenced fantasy writers Robert E. Howard and Leigh Brackett. Other science-fiction and fantasy writers who cited Mundy as an influence included Robert A. Heinlein, E. Hoffmann Price, Fritz Leiber, Andre Norton, H. Warner Munn, Marion Zimmer Bradley and Daniel Easterman. James Hilton's novel Lost Horizon was partly inspired by Mundy's work.'

Autoren/Hrsg.

Mundy, Talbot

Leseproben

 
The owl he has eyes that are big for his size, And the night like a book he deciphers; "Too-woop!" he asserts, and "Hoo-woo-ip!" he cries, And he means to remark he is awfully wise; But he lags behind us, who are "on" to the lies Of the hairy Himalayan knifers!   For eyes we be, of Empire, we, Skinned and puckered and quick to see, And nobody guesses how wise we be, Nor hidden in what disguise we be, A-cooking a sudden surprise we be For hairy Himahlyan knifers!    After a time King urged his horse to a jog-trot, and the five Hillmen pattered in his wake, huddled so close together that the horse could easily have kicked more than one of them.  The night was cold enough to make flesh creep;  but it was imagination that herded them until they touched the horse's rump and kept the whites of their eyes ever showing as they glanced to left and right.  The Khyber, fouled by memory, looks like the very birthplace of the ghosts when the moon is fitful and a mist begins to flow.   "Cheloh!" King called merrily enough;  but his horse shied at nothing, because horses have an uncanny way of knowing how their riders really feel.  They led mules and the spare horse, instead of dragging at their bridles, pressed forward to have their heads among the men, and every once and again there would sound the dull thump of a fist on a beast's nose--such being the attitude of men toward the lesser beasts.   They trotted forward until the bed of the Khyber began to grow very narrow, and Ali Masjid Fort could not be much more than a mile away, at the widest guess.  Then King drew rein and dismounted, for he would have been challenged had he ridden much farther.  A challenge in the Khyber after dark consists invariably of a volley at short range, with the mere words afterward, and the wise man takes precaution.   "Off with the mules' packs!" he ordered, and the men stood round and stared.  Darya Khan, leaning on the only rifle in the party, grinned like a post-office letter box.   "Truly," growled Ismail, forgetting past expression of a different opinion, "this man is as mad as all the other Englishmen."   "Were you ever bitten by one?" wondered King aloud.   "God forbid!"   "Then, off with the packs--and hurry!"   Ismail began to obey.   "Thou!  Lord of the Rivers! (For that is what Darya Khan means.) What is thy calling?"   "Badragga" (guide), he answered.  "Did she not send me back down the Pass to be a guide?"   "And before that what wast thou?"   "Is that thy business?" he snarled, shifting his rifle-barrel to the other hand.  "I am what she says I am!  She used to call me 'Chikki'--the Lifter!--and I was!  There are those who were made to know it!  If she says now I am badragga, shall any say she lies?"   "I say thou art unpacker of mules' burdens!" answered King.  "Begin!"   For answer the fellow grinned from ear to ear and thrust the rifle- barrel forward insolently.  King, with the movement of determination that a man makes when about to force conclusions, drew up his sleeves above the wrist.  At that instant the moon shone through the mist and the gold bracelet glittered in the moonlight.   "May God be with thee!" said "Lord of the Rivers" at once.  And without another word he laid down his rifle and went to help off-load the mules.   King stepped aside and cursed softly.  To a man who knows how to enforce his own authority, it is worse than galling to be obeyed because he wears a woman's favor.  But for a vein of wisdom that underlay his pride he would have pocketed the bracelet there and then and have refused to wear it again.  But as he sweated his pride he overheard Ismail growl:   "Good for thee!  He had taught thee obedience in another bat of the eye!"   "I obey her!" muttered Darya Khan.   "I, too," said Ishmail.  "So shall he before the week dies!  But now it is good to obey him.  He is an ugly man to disobey!"   "I obey him until she sets me free, then," grumbled Darya Khan.   "Better for thee!" said Ismail.   The packs were laid on the ground, and the mules shook themselves, while the jackals that haunt the Khyber came closer, to sit in a ring and watch.  King dug a flashlight out of one of the packs, gave it to Ismail to hold, sat on the other pack and began to write on a memorandum pad.  It was a minute before he could persuade Ismail that the flashlight was harmless, and another minute before he could get him to hold it still.  Then, however, he wrote swiftly.           "In the Khyber, a mile below you.         "Dear Old Man--I would like to run in and see you, but         circumstances don't permit.  Several people sent you         their regards by me.  Herewith go two mules and their         packs.  Make any use of the mules you like, but store         the loads where I can draw on them in case of need.         I would like to have a talk with you before taking the         rather desperate step I intend, but I don't want to be         seen entering or leaving Ali Masjid.  Can you come         down the Pass without making your intention known?         It is growing misty now.  It ought to be easy.  My men         will tell you where I am and show you the way.  Why         not destroy this letter?         --"Athelstan."   He folded the note and stuck a postage stamp on it in lieu of seal. Then he examined the packs with the aid of the flashlight, sorted them and ordered two of the mules reloaded.   "You three!" he ordered then.  "Take the loaded mules into Ali Masjid Fort.  Take this chit, you.  Give it to the sahib in command there."   They stood and gaped at him, wide-eyed--then I came closer to see his eyes and to catch any whisper that Ismail might have for them. But Ismail and Darya Khan seemed full of having been chosen to stay behind;  they offered no suggestions--certainly no encouragement to mutiny.   "To hear is to obey!" said the nearest man, seizing the note, for at all events that was the easiest task.  His action decided the other two.  They took the mules' leading-reins and followed him. Before they had gone ten paces they were all swallowed in the mist that had begun to flow southeastward;  it closed on them like a blanket, and in a minute more the clink of shod hooves had ceased. The night grew still, except for the whimpering of jackals.  Ismail came nearer and squatted at King's feet.   "Why, sahib?" he asked:  and Darya Khan came closer, too.  King had tied the reins of the two horses and the one remaining mule together in a knot and was sitting on the pack.   "Why not?" he countered.   Solemn, almost motionless, squatted on their hunkers, they looked like two great vultures watching an animal die.   "What have they done that they should be sent away?" asked Ismail.  "What have they done that they should be sent to the fort, where the arrficer will put them in irons?"   "Why should he put them in irons?" asked King.   "Why not?  Here in the Khyber there is often a price on men's heads!"   "And not in Delhi?"   "In Delhi these were not known.  There were no witnesses in Delhi. In the fort at Ali Masjid there will be a dozen ready to swear to them!"   "Then, why did they obey?" asked King.   "What is that on the sahib's wrist?"   "You mean--?"   "Sahib--if she said, 'Walk into the fire or over that Cliff!' there be many in these 'Hills' who would obey without murmuring!"   "I have nothing against them," said King.  As long as they are my men I will not send them into a trap."   "Good!" nodded Ismail and Darya Khan together, but they did not seem really satisfied.   "It is good," said Ismail, "that she should have nothing against thee, sahib!  Those three men are in thy keeping!"   "And I in thine?" King asked, but neither man answered him.   They sat in silence for five minutes.  Then suddenly the two Hillmen shuddered, although King...