I showed this to Kurban Sahib, for it was a house that
had been spared--the people having many permits and swearing fidelity at
our stirrup-leathers. I said to Kurban Sahib, "Send half a troop, Child,
and finish that house. They signal to their brethren." And he laughed
where he lay and said, "If I listened to my bearer Umr Singh, there would
not be left ten houses in all this land." I said, "What need to leave one?
This is as it was in Burma. They are farmers to-day and fighters to-morrow.
Let us deal justly with them." He laughed and curled himself up in
his blanket, and I watched the far light in the house till day. I have
been on the border in eight wars, not counting Burma. The first Afghan
War; the second Afghan War; two Mahsud Waziri wars (that is four); two
Black Mountain wars, if I remember right; the Malakand and Tirah. I do not
count Burma, or some small things. _I_ know when house signals to house!
I pushed Sikandar Khan with my foot, and he saw it too. He said, "One of
the Boer-log who brought pumpkins for the mess, which I fried last night,
lives in yonder house." I said, "How dost thou know?" He said, "Because he
rode out of the camp another way, but I marked how his horse fought with
him at the turn of the road; and before the light fell I stole out of the
camp for evening prayer with Kurban Sahib's glasses, and from a little
hill I saw the pied horse of that pumpkin-seller hurrying to that house.
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