Summary

Bertram Mitford The Sirdar's Oath: A Tale of the North-West Frontier

She was hopelessly and entirely out of her reckoning, and had no more idea as to where she had left Herbert Raynier than she had as to where she herself now stood. And then nature asserted itself over mind. Overwhelmed with despair and hunger and exhaustion poor Hilda sank to the ground in a faint that was more than half slumber.
When she awoke the mist had entirely disappeared, and the sun was well up in the blue sky. A shadow was between it and her, and she started somewhat as her eyes rested on a dark face, crowned by a voluminous turban.
Source: Gutenberg

Bertram Mitford The Sirdar's Oath: A Tale of the North-West Frontier

I would rather be back in Mushîm Khan’s prison, with all it involved, and you as you were then, than take what you wanted me to there—without you. The only deed of gift I will accept is yourself. Yourself, do you hear? Am I to have it?”
She was thinking. Almost the spirit of her clairvoyance was in the vivid picture of the dread prison in the Gularzai stronghold that rose before her mind. Then she had stood with him on the brink of his grave, and soul had met soul undisguised. Then it was death—now life—life and such happiness!
Source: Gutenberg

Bertram Mitford The Sirdar's Oath: A Tale of the North-West Frontier

It was time to separate for the night, but they lingered a while chatting in front of the tent. There was a very wildness of desolation in this sudden transition from light to darkness. All within the camp was silent, and away beyond, the loom of the hills was just discernible, black against the stars. The ghostly cry of a night bird echoed from the craggy height which overhung the camp, and far away over the plain a most weird and melancholy howling was borne upon the night wind.
“That’s a wolf—or wolves,” said Haslam, his shikari instincts metaphorically pricking up his ears.
Source: Gutenberg

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