You held them off--God knows how you did it. Your wound's a nasty one; but
you'll get over it."
He rose and held out his hands to the others. _"Shabash!_ (Well done!)
_Subhedar Sahib_, Mohammed Khan, Gulab Khan, Shaikh Bakar, well done."
And the men of the alien race pressed round him and clasped his hands
gratefully.
The defeat of the invaders in this little-known corner of the Indian Empire
was but the forerunner of the disasters that befell the other enemies of
the British dominion, though many months passed before peace settled on the
land again. But Lalpuri had not so long to wait for Dermot to redeem his
promise to visit it. When he did he rode on Badshah at the head of a
British force. The gates were flung open wide; and he passed through
submissive crowds to see the blackened ruins of the Palace that, stormed,
looted, and burnt by its rebel soldiery, hid the ashes of the _Dewan_.
A year had gone by. In the villages perched on the steep sides of the
mountains the Bhuttia women rejoiced to know that the peace of the
Borderland would never be broken again while the dread hand of a god lay on
it. And in their bamboo huts they tried to hush their little children with
the mention of his name. But the sturdy, naked babies had no fear of him.
For they all knew him; and he was kind and far less terrible than the gods
and demons that the old lama showed them in the painted Wheel of Life sent
him from Tibet.
Pages:
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382