The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 179: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE BADMASHES OF THE “BLOODY BORDER.” what mercy they could find. They threw down their rifles and yelled for mercy. Andy rose to his feet and called to his men to surround them and take them all prisoners and to do them no harm; but no sooner did his figure appear outlined against. the sunlight than-the treacherous badmashes.picked up their discarded rifles and fired one last volley into their foes. Andy felt a hot, tearing sensation through his side and wabbled groggily on his feet. But, pulling himself to- gether, he bravely led his. men at_a run toward the supposedly surrendered hillsmen. They had dropped their rifles again and were pleading for mercy. The subadar, despite his advanced years, was the first to reach the pris- oners, followed quickly by Andy and his men. disarmed and securely bound by the belts of the sepoys. “Tt is good, sahib.”” The old suba- dar grinned delightedly as he turned to.salaam Andy respectfully. ‘‘We have taken Sher Afzal—’” He broke off suddenly as he saw the deathly pallor of his young officer, and with a bound was at his side. He was just in time to catch Andy in his arms as he fell back, swooning from pain and loss of blood from his wound. Gently the old man placed him on the ground and prepared to bind up the wound. - His eyes were very tender and his hands worked with the deft sureness of a surgeon. In a few minutes Aridy revived. “Tt’s nothing serious, Huzgoor,”’ Gurdit Singh encouraged as he worked, “and you'll soon be on your feet again. It is a clean wound.” “Tl be all right in a bit, subadar,” Andy grinned weakly. ‘Go, take some men, and attend to the political and the other of our wounded.” His task finished, the old subadar rose respectfully to his feet. With an imperious wave of his hand he di- In a minute they were ail 649 rected a sufficient number of the grin- ning Sikhs to guard the prisoners well while he hurried over to the political. The latter was moaning feebly, but still conscious. The subadar bound up his shattered thigh and stanched the flow of blood, then hurriedly in- spected the rest of his wounded men. All were dead except one, and he died as Gurdit Singh reached his side. Being now in active command, the subadar gave quick and sure orders to his men for the disposal of the dead Sikhs—whon1 they buried beside the roadway. With the dead men’s rifles they improvised some crude stretchers and placed the two wound- ed officers on them, neatly to march back to Apozai: As they started on chetr return journey the subadar quietly and with- out any venom gave the coup de grace to all the wounded Waziri hillsmen, leaving the dead where they lay. He waved aside as unimportant the protests of the political that foes should be buried just as much as friends, for he claimed that his men had already done a full day’s work and were tired, and that. they had a long and tiring march before them. At a sign from the subadar two men of the rear guard fell out and re- mained behind. At a bend of the road farther on Andy observed a number of lazy curls of smoke arising from where the fight had taken place. He summoned the subadar to him and in- quired what was the meaning of them. “There are no vultures, Huzoor,” the old man chuckled with huge, grim delight. “ But a greasy poshtin burns well.” And the subadar winked know- ingly and laughed deep in his throat. Andy made no further comment, for he knew the Sikhs were very fond - of cremation, and he had read tales of the Afghan wars. He _ understood what had happened, and accordingly oredered that means of disposal car- ried out. And presently the two Sikhs who had dropped behind to cremate the COMicdoo S CO@