“I know who you are and all about you,” said the Brigadier.  “Used to know your father well.  I applied to have you in my command partly for your father’s sake, but principally because Risaldar Mahommed Gunga spake so highly of you.  He tells me he has had an eye on you from the start, and that you shape well.  Remember, this is irregular cavalry, and in many respects quite unlike regulars.  You’ll need tact and a firm hand combined, and you mustn’t ever forget that the men whom you will lead are gentlemen.”

Cunningham reported to his Colonel, only to discover that he, too, knew all about him.  The Colonel was less inclined to be restricted as to topic, and less mindful of discretion than the Brigadier.

“I hear they couldn’t stand you in Peshawur.  That’s hopeful!  If you’d come with a recommendation from that quarter, I’d have packed you off back again.  I never in my life would have believed that a dozen men could all shut their eyes so tightly to the signs—­never!”

“The signs, sir?”

“Yes, the signs!  Come and look your troop over.”

Cunningham found that the troop, too, had heard about his coming.  He did not look them over.  When he reached the lines, they came out in a swarm—­passed him one by one, eyed him, as traders eye a horse—­and then saluted him a second time, with the greeting: 

“Salaam, Chota-Cunnigan-bahadur!”

“Yes!  You’re in disgrace!” said his Colonel, noticing the color rising to the youngster’s cheeks.

CHAPTER XII

Sons of the sons of war we be,
Sabred and horsed, and whole and free;
One is the caste, and one degree,—­
One law,—­one code decreed us. 
Who heads wolves in the dawning day? 
Who leaps in when the bull’s at bay? 
He who dare is he who may! 
Now, rede ye who shall lead us!

The check that Ralph Cunningham’s management of his police had caused, and the subsequent resumption of night looting, served to whet the appetites of the hungry crowd beyond the border.  Those closest to Peshawur, who had always done the looting, were not the ultimate consignees by any means; there were other tribes who bought from them —­others yet to whom they paid tribute in the shape of stolen rifles.  Cunningham’s administration had upset the whole modus vivendi of the lower Himalayas!

Though it all began again the moment he was superseded, there had been, none the less, a three-month interregnum, and that had to be compensated for.  The tribes at the rear were clamorous and would not listen to argument or explanation; they had collected in hundreds, led by the notorious Khumel Khan, preparatory to raiding in real earnest and with sufficient force to carry all before them at the first surprise attack.

They were disappointed when the pilfering resumed, for a tribal Hillman would generally rather fight than eat, and would always prefer his dinner from a dead enemy’s cooking-pot.  They sat about for a long time, considering whether there were not excuse enough for war in any case and listening to the intricately detailed information brought by the deserting watchmen.  And as they discussed things, but before they had time to decide on any plan, the Brigadier commanding the Irregulars got wind of them.