The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1914-10-18

sodden man fluttered and woke
~ at the first brisk chirrup Of
the firing.
He had been prone and inert, a leg
upon the soft cushions and tapes
tries. under the silken green awning
that threw n purple oasis Of shade
in the universal glare of bitter AT
ghanistan sunlight that pervaded the
ochre-colored roof tops. Somewhere
in the remote distance. and muffled
and swaddled by the deodars. sin
gle rife had gone OFF "pip-pop" He
had shifted in his coma at that sound.
Another rifle had shattered the
clarified silence Of these austere hills.
Before its echoes had stopped, full
throated smash of firing had an
swered it, Into the clear air there
began to rise the long, drawletl throb
of hand-beaten drums.
The man thrust his elbow deep
into the effeminate cushions and
hoisted his body aloft He was a
powerful man with torso that was
big and strong, in spite of the over.
laying obesity and flabbiness bulg-
ing his exotic and Oriental trapping
Of silk. The face under the mat of
fair hair was large and it might
have been strong also, If the man
had SO willed. The jaw was firm and
well modelled The mouth, loose and
weak, overweighted that firmness.
The nose and features had power.
The bagginess and dissoluteness of
the heavy, bile-filled eyes, counter
acted that power The skin had a
moist and unwholesome sickness
that not even the mans provinces
cancelled. The face was the face
Of man who had surrendered ell
his gifts and powers to crafty his
uppetites. That body bore out the
truth conveyed by the face. 1t was
fine body, soldierly body become
gross.
AS the man rested on his elbow
the thrall Of indulgence was still
upon Aim. 1t held his soft body cap
tive. 1t held his wits amused, fud-
died. But somewhere in that choas
of bemused instinct spark of soul
had been kindled by the sound Of
firing. The man hung there besotted,
feebly and ceaselessly licking with
dry tongue dryer lips, but in his
dull eyes there was a faint glimmer
of alertness.
The drumming throbbed UP and
up to him from out the huge and
swinging valley below the house. It
was muffled and muted by the frs
and deodars that stood beneath the
house, between 1t and the valley.
Weaving In and out of the drum
beats was the thin, keen pipe of men
shouting.
Presently firing began to pass
backward and forward from the dis
lance to the remote distance. It
was cracking and sharp-splitting
reverberating, as though musket
had been fired between rocky cliffs.
Now 1t was as single emphatic ham.
mer strokes.
1t went on loosely. incoherently for
a minute or two. Abruptly It
focused in tearing burst. The
drums throbbed up 10 clamor. The
shouting swelled up in menace.
Then. like the voice of order. new
sound slashed out. 1t was sudden
bursting defamation of many rifles
speaking at once. and speaking to-
gether. 1t smashed off, one--two-
three. 1t was like the steady beat OF
metronome.
The listening debauche stopped
licking his lips. His face became
strained and fixed. He listened
tensely.
"volley firing" he whispered.
"Volley firing!"
In spite of his gorgeous, Oriental
clothes, the whole exotic suggestion
Of his Afghan surroundings, the man
was an Englishman, anu he had
spoken in English =
He hung listening for a space. the
bemused look slowly thinning before
his new intentness. He made no
movement. The beat-beat-beat of
the drums increased. 1t worked up
crescendo, like a theme of some
dtabolical music The shouting be-
came palmer, harder. more evil. The
clock-like smashes of the volleys
stopped every now and then; always
when they restarted, they were
nearer. But they were always clock
like. They never grew ragged. They
never grew hustered.
The man listened to them as
though they conveyed to him
NO al r...,