The Eye of Zeitoon

Produced by M.R.J.
By Talbot Mundy
Author of Rung Ho, King—of the Khyber Rifles, Hira Singh, The Ivory Trail, etc.
I Parthians, Medes and Elamites ………………………… 1 II How did sunshine get into the garden? By whose leave came the wind? ………………………………………. 21 III Sahib, there is always work for real soldiers! ……… 40 IV We are the robbers, effendi! ………………………. 52 V Effendi, that is the heart of Armenia burning! ……….. 74 VI Passing the buck to Allah! ……………………….. 91 VII We hold you to your word! ………………………… 118 VIII I go with that man! …………………………….. 128 IX And you left your friend to help me? ………………. 142 X When I fire this pistol— ………………………….. 163 XI That man's dose is death, and he dies unshriven! ……. 176 XII America's way with a woman is beyond belief! ………. 195 XIII 'Take your squadron and go find him, Rustum Khan!' And I, sahib, obeyed my lord bahadur's orders. ……… 211 XIV Rajput, I shall hang you if you make more trouble! …… 229 XV Scenery to burst the heart! ……………………….. 243 XVI What care I for my belly, sahib, if you break my heart? 257 XVII I knew what to expect of the women! ……………… 277 XVIII Per terram et aquam ……………………………. 290 XIX Such drilling as they have had—such little drilling! .. 303 XX So few against so many! I see death, and I am not sorry! 316 XXI Those who survive this night shall have brave memories! . 333 XXII God go with you to the States, effendim! ………….. 349
Oh ye, who tread the trodden path And keep the narrow law In famished faith that Judgment Day Shall blast your sluggard mists away And show what Moses saw! Oh thralls of subdivided time, Hours Measureless I sing That own swift ways to wider scenes, New-plucked from heights where Vision preens A white, unwearied wing! No creed I preach to bend dull thought To see what I shall show, Nor can ye buy with treasured gold The key to these Hours that unfold New tales no teachers know. Ye'll need no leave o' the laws o' man, For Vision's wings are free; The swift Unmeasured Hours are kind And ye shall leave all cares behind If ye will come with me! In vain shall lumps of fashioned stuff Imprison you about; In vain let pundits preach the flesh And feebling limits that enmesh Your goings in and out, I know the way the zephyrs took Who brought the breath of spring, I guide to shores of regions blest Where white, uncaught Ideas nest And Thought is strong o' wing! Within the Hours that I unlock All customed fetters fall; The chains of drudgery release; Set limits fade; horizons cease For you who hear the call No trumpet note—no roll of drums, But quiet, sure and sweet— The self-same voice that summoned Drake, The whisper for whose siren sake They manned the Devon fleet, More lawless than the gray gull's wait, More boundless than the sea, More subtle than the softest wind!