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Pulp Fiction, 1919 · page 88 of 208

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Adventure Magazine Cover — page 88: Pulp Fiction, 1919

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74 with his arrows. He, himself, took his bow and crawled forward to where he could see him down the pass. At a sign from Sir Weyand, I helped him lift the cauldron from the fire by its stick. We carried it to the edge of the ravine. “Go with your master,” said Sir Weyand to me under his breath, ‘‘and take your bow. I will manage the rest of my task alone.”’ Nothing loath, I obeyed. Crouching beside Shirzad Mir, I could see the caravan coming up the pass, in the quiet of the evening. The bearers and camelmen were pushing ahead with loud cries, for the camping-place. was just around a turn. IT WAS a brave sight. The Pathans, as the boy had said, were t in the lead—lean men, riding easily and fully armed. Next came the Ethi- opians, with their heavy burdens. They, of course, were unarmed. Il counted seven Pathans. Then appeared Most Alast, the elephant of the Mogul. He had two red stripes down his forehead, and silver bells at his neck. I could see the white heron’s plume of Said Afzel in the howdah behind the mahout. Slowly, slowly, they came for- ward. “It could not be better, Abdul Dost,” cried my master joyfully. I took heart from this. For, though his eyes were shining, he was laughing to him- self, which was a good sign. He was not mad. J.had begun to see his plan. Last came the long-haired camels, bearing the women, the baskets which probably contained the treasure, and the eunuch guards of the harem. A few slaves in gorgeous tunics walked with the dirty camelmen. A lone Pathan brought up the rear. I felt Shirzad Mir’s hand on my arm. “Shoot your arrows among the camel- men, Abdul Dost,” he said. ‘I will take care of the leading riders—lI and the boy. When I shout, raise our battle-cry and shout as if you were many men.” I nodded to show that I understood. I strung my bow and waited, lying on my belly. It was just as if Shirzad Mir and I were stalking antelope. Yet never had we stalked such game as this. The sun had left the pass, but there was still light when the Pathans passed under Adventure us and arrived at the heap of stones. After talking together, three of them dismounted and began to clear away the stones, drop- ping them down the slope into the stream to free the path for the elephant. We four were silent on the cliff, though I could hear Sir Weyand working at the fire. The swaying howdah of Most Alast came nearer—so near I could see the jewels set in the turban of Said Afzel, who was laughing with a fat man on the cushion by him—Kasim Kirlas, I thought. I could have almost reached down and touched their heads. Then Shirzad Mir bellowed his battle-cry. “Hat—Shirzad el kadr—hail”’ He leaped to his feet and began to speed arrows down at the riders. “‘Hat—Shurzad el kadr!”’ I echoed, twang- ing a shaft among the camels. It must have reached its mark, for one of the beasts yelled with pain. I heard the shrill shout of the boy and the startled cries of the slaves below us. Then Sir Weyand came to my side. “St. George for England!” he cried. I asked him later what it was, and he told me. As he shouted, he pushed the cauldron over on its side. The boiling fat fell on the broad rump of Most Alast. An elephant has a thick hide, but he is sensitive and nervous as a woman—and the boiling grease was very hot. Most Alast lifted up his trunk and bellowed his pain. Then he charged forward. The howdah, with Said Afzel and Kasim Kirlas, slipped its girths as Most Alast shook him- self—the fat had missed the howdah, to my sorrow—and the two went to earth. Then Most Alast dashed among the riders. Several horses leaped over the slope in their fright. Finding himself against the stones, the elephant turned in the narrow path and charged back against the camels, which gave way before him. Some stumbled into the brush of the slope. Others pressed against the cliff wall. B’z/- lah, there was much confusion! The camels, being frightened and hurt, began to yell also, and the horses too. The black slaves had leaped to shelter and stood watching, their eyeballs showing white. The camelmen sought safety where they could. Shirzad Mir had reckoned well what havoc an angered elephant would make along that narrow path. Eomicbooks (E(0)