Summary

Talbot Mundy King of the Khyber Rifles — Chapter V (1916)

King admitted ungrudgingly, as the mare came back at a walk to her picket rope.
"There is only one mare like this one," laughed the Rangar. "She has her."
"What'll you take for this one?" King asked him. "Name your price!"
"The mare is hers. You must ask her. Who knows? She is generous. There is nobody on earth more generous than she when she cares to be. See what you wear on your wrist!"
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Talbot Mundy King of the Khyber Rifles — Chapter V (1916)

Yasmini is too jolly clever for me, or for any other man I ever met; and the major's a man, isn't he? He may pack the Khyber so full of men that there's only standing room and still she'll go up without his leave if she chooses! There is nobody like Yasmini in all the world!"
The Rangar was looking past them, facing the great gorge that lets the North of Asia trickle down into India and back again when weather and the tribes permit. His eyes had become interested in the distance. King wondered why—and looked—and saw. Courtenay saw, too.
Source: Wikisource

Talbot Mundy King of the Khyber Rifles — Chapter V (1916)

I recognize you."
"Aye!" said the man. "She met me and gave me this letter and sent me back."
"How great is the lashkar that is forming?" asked Courtenay.
"Some say three thousand men. They speak truth. They who say five thousand are liars. There is a lashkar."
"And she went up alone?" King murmured aloud in Pashtu.
"Is the moon alone in the sky?" the fellow asked, and King smiled at him.
"Let us hurry after her, sahib!" urged Rewa Gunga, and King looked straight into his eyes, that were like pools of fire, just as they had been that night in the room in Delhi.
Source: Wikisource

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