The Man Who Would Be King | Page 9

into patterns. He shaved mine, too, and made me wear outrageous
things to look like a heathen. That was in a most mountaineous country,
and our camels couldn’t go along any more because of the mountains.
They were tall and black, and coming home I saw them fight like wild
goats—there are lots of goats in Kafiristan. And these mountains, they
never keep still, no more than the goats. Always fighting they are, and
don’t let you sleep at night.”
“Take some more whiskey,” I said, very slowly. “What did you and
Daniel Dravot do when the camels could go no further because of the

rough roads that led into Kafiristan?”
“What did which do? There was a party called Peachey Taliaferro
Carnehan that was with Dravot. Shall I tell you about him? He died out
there in the cold. Slap from the bridge fell old Peachey, turning and
twisting in the air like a penny whirligig that you can sell to the
Amir—No; they was two for three ha’pence, those whirligigs, or I am
much mistaken and woful sore. And then these camels were no use, and
Peachey said to Dravot—‘For the Lord’s sake, let’s get out of this
before our heads are chopped off,’ and with that they killed the camels
all among the mountains, not having anything in particular to eat, but
first they took off the boxes with the guns and the ammunition, till two
men came along driving four mules. Dravot up and dances in front of
them, singing,—‘Sell me four mules.’ Says the first man,—‘If you are
rich enough to buy, you are rich enough to rob;’ but before ever he
could put his hand to his knife, Dravot breaks his neck over his knee,
and the other party runs away. So Carnehan loaded the mules with the
rifles that was taken off the camels, and together we starts forward into
those bitter cold mountainous parts, and never a road broader than the
back of your hand.”
He paused for a moment, while I asked him if he could remember the
nature of the country through which he had journeyed.
“I am telling you as straight as I can, but my head isn’t as good as it
might be. They drove nails through it to make me hear better how
Dravot died. The country was mountainous and the mules were most
contrary, and the inhabitants was dispersed and solitary. They went up
and up, and down and down, and that other party Carnehan, was
imploring of Dravot not to sing and whistle so loud, for fear of bringing
down the tremenjus avalanches. But Dravot says that if a King couldn’t
sing it wasn’t worth being King, and whacked the mules over the rump,
and never took no heed for ten cold days. We came to a big level valley
all among the mountains, and the mules were near dead, so we killed
them, not having anything in special for them or us to eat. We sat upon
the boxes, and played odd and even with the cartridges that was jolted
out.

“Then ten men with bows and arrows ran down that valley, chasing
twenty men with bows and arrows, and the row was tremenjus. They
was fair men—fairer than you or me—with yellow hair and remarkable
well built. Says Dravot, unpacking the guns—‘This is the beginning of
the business. We’ll fight for the ten men,’ and with that he fires two
rifles at the twenty men and drops one of them at two hundred yards
from the rock where we was sitting. The other men began to run, but
Carnehan and Dravot sits on the boxes picking them off at all ranges,
up and down the valley. Then we goes up to the ten men that had run
across the snow too, and they fires a footy little arrow at us. Dravot he
shoots above their heads and they all falls down flat. Then he walks
over them and kicks them, and then he lifts them up and shakes hands
all around to make them friendly like. He calls them and gives them the
boxes to carry, and waves his hand for all the world as though he was
King already. They takes the boxes and him across the valley and up
the hill into a pine wood on the top, where there was half a dozen big
stone idols. Dravot he goes to the biggest—a fellow they call
Imbra—and lays a rifle and a cartridge at his feet, rubbing his nose
respectful with his own nose, patting him on the head, and saluting in
front of it. He turns round to the men and nods his head, and
says,—‘That’s all right. I’m in the know too, and these old jim-jams are
my friends.’ Then he