‘I thank thee for that,’ said Kasim; ‘now let all be as silent as possible. Listen for every sound,—we shall hear their horses’ feet.’
There was not a word spoken. Even the women were still, and the children; now and then only the wail of an infant would be heard from below. All looked with straining eyes towards the north side, and the best marksmen were placed there under the direction of Kasim.
‘Thou art pretty sure of one,’ said the Khan to him; ‘I wish I could shoot as well as thou.’
‘A steady hand and aim, Khan Sahib;—do not hurry; if not the man, at least thou canst hit the horse. Inshalla! we shall have some sport.’
‘I had better take one of the jinjalls; the Feringhees (may they be accursed!) have sorely plagued us often by firing a cannon full of balls at us; so give me a few, I pray. I will ram them down into the piece, and it will be less liable to miss than a single bullet.’
‘Mashalla! a wise thought,’ said Kasim, handing him some balls; and a scattered fire of praises ran from mouth to mouth at the Khan’s ingenuity: ‘we shall now see whether we are to eat dirt or not.’
They were now all silent for awhile.
‘Hark!’ said Kasim at length; ‘what is that?’
They all listened more attentively; the village dogs—first one, then all—barked and howled fearfully.
‘They come!’ cried the Khan; ‘I have been too long with bodies of horse not to know the tramp.’