"Well, you bought yourself a faithful hound, Father," said Learoyd. "His name is Gunga Din and he speaks English, after a fashion. Nice enough chap, though a bit childlike, like most of his sort. He followed the regiment here all the way from Simla. He’s been a sort of unofficial regimental bhisti, but I guess he’s yours now."
"Is that all he has to wear"" said Lucas.
"It’s all "e" s got, period," said Mulvaney. "Not "ardly equipped for a march to Chitral, ‘e ain’t. "
"Well, we shall have to do something about that," said Lucas. "We’ll have to send him to the quartermaster to get properly equipped and to get some decent clothing."
Din’s face lit up. "Uniform, Father Sahib" Din be good soldier with uniform!"
"Soldier"" said Mulvaney, while Din shrank back from him.
"Why not"" said Lucas.
"Why not, indeed"" said Ortheris. "Just send ‘im over to the quartermaster and tell ‘im to ask for a full kit and a suit of khakis. The quartermaster, kind soul that ‘e is, will comply without a moment’s ‘esitation." The men laughed.
Din’s face took on a crestfallen expression as he saw his hopes of obtaining a khaki uniform fade as quickly as they had arisen.
"Well, now, surely if the quartermaster knew it was for me," said Lucas, "he’d do it. After all, we can’t very well have Miss Cross being attended by a half naked man."
"Right," Delaney said. "Ortheris, since you pointed out the problem, perhaps you’d be so good as to accompany Din to see the quartermaster""
"Per’aps I will," said Ortheris, "after I’ve done with this whiskey."
"Now, Ortheris," said Delaney.
Ortheris scowled. "I knew it was too good to last," he said. "Sooner or later an officer’s bound to start actin’ like an officer. Come on then, Din. We’ll go an’ get you your soldier suit."
He left with the joyful Gunga Din in tow. Learoyd smiled. "I’d say you made yourself a friend for life there, Father."
"From what I hear about where we’re going, I’d say I could use all the friends I can get," said Lucas. "Tell me, Private Mulvaney-"
"Just plain ol’ Mulvaney, Father. Everyone calls me that. "
"All right, Mulvaney. What can you tell me about what’s happening at Chakdarra" "
"Bloody fair mess is what’s ‘appenin’, if you ask me. Some damn fool sod in Simla, sittin’ on his bleedin’-"
"Mulvaney!" said Learoyd. "Perhaps it would be better if I were to explain. Mind you now, Father, I’m not privy to what’s told to the command staff, but scuttlebutt is generally pretty reliable in this outfit. Chitral is some hundred fifty miles north of here and about four miles or so straight up. Now, because it looks so nice and well situated on a map, someone went and decided that the Sirkar ought to take an interest in it, as it were, and so a political agent was ensconced there. ‘Round about five years ago or so, the local high muckamuck there, a sort of king called the Mehtar of Chitral, Aman-ul-Mulk, by name, up and died. The problem was, Aman left about a score of sons and not much in the way of a proper line of succession. Several of them killed each other off while tryin’ to take the throne, and it looked as though things would eventually even out all by themselves, until Urnra Khan stepped into the picture. "
"Who’s Urnra Khan"" said Andre.
"A bloody Pathan warlord," said Mulvaney.
"The Khan of Jandul," Learoyd said. "Also known amongst us all by several somewhat less exalted appellations. Actually, the whole thing was more or less our fault, in a way. If we’d kept ourselves well out of it, our boys wouldn’t now be in such a stew up there. Unfortunately the Forward Policy has its own curious sort of momentum. Arnan was always friendly to the Sirkar, and Simla had no trouble with him. In return for arms and ammunition, as well as six thousand rupees a year, he became our ally. We posted an agent to Gilgit and that was that. Then Aman decided that he wanted more, so the annual payment was doubled. There was no further trouble till Aman died. One of his sons, Aftal, happened to be in a position to seize the reins of power. He immediately started killing off his brothers, but the litter was quite sizable. He couldn’t get them all at once.
"Anyway," Learoyd continued, "Afzal claimed the title of Mehtar and asked for recognition from Simla. The bloody fools gave it to him, figurin’, I suppose, to be Johnny-on-the-spot with the new man. Never mind he murdered several of his brothers and had the rest seeking sanctuary with the neighbouring chiefs. Now the eldest brother, Nizam, appealed to Simla for help. Of course, our people could hardly give it to him, having already recognised his little brother. Shortly thereafter, Afzul, not to be confused with Afzal, returned to Chitral. This was Sher Afzul, the new Mehtar’s uncle. He promptly killed his nephew Afzal as well as yet another brother in the bargain. Exit Aftal, the late Mehtar, enter Afzul, the new Mehtar. Bit of a Chinese fire drill, but it grows more absurd. Having recognised the late Mchtar, it appeared bad form for the boys at Simia to recognise his murderer, so they gave Nizam 25 °Cashmere rifles, which in turn encouraged a sizeable number of the local tribesmen to join up as well. Nizam marches on his uncle, who sends over a thousand men to stop him. Said thousand men immediately desert to Nizam’s side. Uncle Mehtar, fearful for his life, and rightfully so, performs a rather graceless abdication and beats a hasty retreat.
"You follow all this so far"" Learoyd said, smirking. "We now have Mehtar Number Three, good ol’ Nizam the Nephew. He, however, proves so inept at Mehtarin’ that in order to help keep the peace, it’s decided to send Captain Young husband and a full battalion to reinforce the garrison at Cilgit. Ready trumpet fanfare … enter Urnra Khan, the aforementioned Pathan warlord. Turns out that yet another son-of-Aman-or son of something else not a man at all, if you get my meanin’-young chap named Amir, had taken refuge with the Khan of Jandul. Said son appears in Chitral, properly respectful of his brother the Mchtar, and claims to have escaped from Umra Khan, who had not used him kindly. Since brother Amir appears so properly respectful, brother Nizam the Mehtar makes him welcome, upon which Amir murders Nizam in a properly respectful manner. Where are we now, Mchtar Number Four or thereabouts" No matter, we’re still keepin’ it all in the family.
"Now the agent and the soldiers in Chitral have no idea what to do. Recognise yet another new Mehtar" Might be too hasty. After all, there’re still a few other sons runnin’ about here and there, no tellin’ the rate of turnover in this job. So word goes out to Simia-would someone mind very much tellin’ us what to do about this situation, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble"
"Meanwhile, Umra Khan the Aforementioned, who, as it turned out, hadn’t used Amir badly at all-Amir’s the current aspirant to longevity at Mehtarin’, you’ll recall-said Urnra Khan begins to march with a large force upon Chitral. Just to lend a hand, you understand. Amir, in his new precarious position, is somewhat leery of said hand and so he sends out a force to meet the khan’s. The khan prevails after a bit of a dustup, exit Amir. Now Urnra Khan, havin’ no great desire to Mehtar himself, invites Sher Afzul-that’s the uncle who was Number Two Mehtar-or was it Number Three" No matter. Anyway, Number Two now becomes Number Four. Or is it Five" Whatever. And just in case we didn’t like it, Umra Khan and Sher Afzul announce that they will fight if we oppose them. Now one knows that isn’t the sort of thing one says to an Englishman, much less a garrison full of Englishmen who are already confused about this comedy of errors. So of course the garrison opposed them, with the result being that the 14th Sikhs were massacred and their officers taken prisoner. Fort Chitral, miles away from nowhere, finds itself besieged.
"Outnumbered by fifty to one, Surgeon-Major Robertson finds himself havin’ to defend the fort with about three hundred rounds per man and not much in the way of supplies. One massed attack follows another. The fort is fired on repeatedly, yet somehow Robertson holds on and keeps the fort from burnin’ to the ground. He holds on long enough for Sir Robert Low to arrive with three brigades and Colonel Kelly with one. Both commanders had to fight for every inch of ground along the way. They save Robertson, put Umra Khan to flight, and breathe a mighty sigh of relief, thinkin’ its all over. And just to be on the safe side, so they don’t have to fight for every inch of ground goin’ back, it’s decided to establish a garrison in the Malakand Pass to keep the road open * ‘ Now we come at last to a gentlemen who calls himself Sadullah, referred to hereabouts as the Mad Mullah. Rather like that Mahdi chap General ‘Chinese’ Gordon ran afoul of in Khartoum. Am I losin’ you""