Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 146 No. 4 — page 84: what you’re looking at

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

Now he could see, two abreast, horses that cavalrymen. Ten couples of the troop rode by with low-voiced exchanges of words among themselves. A petty offi- cer rode at their heels, and behind him, on bay Arab, whose sweated skin glistened like red wine in the moonlight, came a visiladar, the commander of the troop. A little down the road Barlow could see an undulating, swaying, huge ribbon of white- and-pink bullocks, twenty-four yoke of the tall, lean-flanked, powerful amrit mahal, the breed that Hyder Ali long ago had brought on his conquering way to the land of the Mahrattas. And beyond the ghost- like line of white creatures was some huge stand beside Barlow and saluted, saying: “ Salaam, Major Sahib—y ou ride alone?” Barlow said: “My salaams, riseladar, and I am but a captain. I ride at night be- cause the days are hot. My two men have to render unto the ruler of thi nett sud ee Op Se ort, b Be bee eS ae ion the gate the cannon has made ae “Then there will be bloodshed, risila- dar,” Barlow declared. Paes. “True, Captain Sahib; but that is, after a manner, the method of collecting just dues in this land where those who till the soil now, were, but a generation or two since, men of the sword—they can’t forget the traditions. In the land of the British rajah six inches of a paper, with the big seal duly affixed, would do the business. That I know, for I havé traveled far, sakid. As to the bloodshed, worse will be the tram- pling of crops, for in the district of this worshiper of Mahomet the wheat grows like wild scrub in the jungle, taller than up to the belly of my horse. That is the why- fore of the cannon, in a way of speaking, because from a hill we can send to this man a slaying message, and leave the wheat standing to fill the bellies of those who are in his hands as a tyrant. Sirdar Baptiste was for sending a thousand sepoys to put the fear of destruction in the debtor: but the Dewan with his eye on revenue from crops, hit upon this plan of the loud-voiced one of brass.” Then the commander ordered the ad- vance, and saluting, said: “Salaam, Cap tain Sahib, and if I meet your servants Pll tell them that you desire their presence.” When the huge cannon had rumbled by, and behind it had passed a company of sepoys on foot, Barlow turned his horse into the jungle for Gulab. —_—--:— . CHAPTER XL