“Now I will speak vernacular. You sit tight, Mister O’Hara … It concerns the pedigree of a white stallion.”
“Still? That was finished long ago.”
“When everyone is dead the Great Game is finished. Not before. Listen to me till the end. There were Five Kings who prepared a sudden war three years ago, when thou wast given the stallion’s pedigree by Mahbub Ali. Upon them, because of that news, and ere they were ready, fell our Army.”
“Ay—eight thousand men with guns. I remember that night.”
“But the war was not pushed. That is the Government custom. The troops were recalled because the Government believed the Five Kings were cowed; and it is not cheap to feed men among the high Passes. Hilás and Bunár—Rajahs with guns—undertook for a price to guard the Passes against all coming from the North. They protested both fear and friendship.” He broke off with a giggle into English: “Of course, I tell you this unoffeecially to elucidate political situation, Mister O’Hara. Offeecially, I am debarred from criticizing any action of superiors. Now I go on.—This pleased the Government, anxious to avoid expense, and a bond was made for so many rupees a month that Hilás and Bunár should guard the Passes as soon as the State’s troops were withdrawn. At that time—it was after we two met—I, who had been selling tea in Leh, became a clerk of accounts in the Army. When the troops were withdrawn, I was left behind to pay the coolies who made new roads in the Hills. This road-making was part of the bond between Bunár, Hilás, and the Government.”
“So? And then?”
“I tell you, it was jolly-beastly cold up there too, after summer,” said Hurree Babu confidentially. “I was afraid these Bunár men would cut my