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Talbot Mundy
Talbot Mundy was a British-American writer best known for his adventure fiction set in exotic locations, often drawing on his own experiences in India and the Middle East. Born William Lancaster Gribbon in London in 1879, Mundy adopted his pseudonym after emigrating to the United States, where he found success as a novelist and a writer for pulp magazines. His most famous works include "King of the Khyber Rifles" and "Jimgrim" series, which combine elements of mysticism, adventure, and historical fiction.
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Talbot Mundy
CHAPTER I Howrah City bows the kneeMore or less to masters three,King, and Prince, and Siva.Howrah City pays in painTaxes which the royal twainGive to priests, to give again(More or less) to Siva. THAT was no time or place for any girl of twenty to be wandering unprotected. Rosemary McClean knew it; the old woman, of the sweeper caste, that is no caste at all,—the hag with the flat breasts and...
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Talbot Mundy
Chapter One "Look for a man named Grim." There is a beautiful belief that journalists may do exactly as they please, and whenever they please. Pleasure with violet eyes was in Chicago. My passport describes me as a journalist. My employer said: "Go to Jerusalem." I went, that was in 1920. I had been there a couple of times before the World War, when the Turks were in full control. So I...
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Talbot Mundy
THE NJO HAPA* SONG Green, ah greener than emeralds are, tree-tops beckon the dhows to land, White, oh whiter than diamonds are, blue waves burst on the amber sand, And nothing is fairer than Zanzibar from the Isles o' the West to the Marquesand. I was old when the world was wild with youth (All love was lawless...
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Talbot Mundy
CHAPTER I "Allah Makes All Things Easy!" This isn't an animal story. No lions live at Petra nowadays, at any rate, no four-legged ones; none could have survived competition with the biped. Unquestionably there were tamer, gentler, less assertive lions there once, real yellow cats with no worse inconveniences for the casual stranger than teeth, claws, and appetites. The Assyrian kings used...
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Talbot Mundy
CHAPTER I A watery July sun was hurrying toward a Punjab sky-line, as if weary of squandering his strength on men who did not mind, and resentful of the unexplainable—a rainy-weather field-day. The cold steel and khaki of native Indian cavalry at attention gleamed motionless between British infantry and two batteries of horse artillery. The only noticeable sound was the voice of a general officer,...
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Talbot Mundy
I. A Blood-red sun rested its huge disk upon a low mud wall that crested a rise to westward, and flattened at the bottom from its own weight apparently. A dozen dried-out false-acacia-trees shivered as the faintest puff in all the world of stifling wind moved through them; and a hundred thousand tiny squirrels kept up their aimless scampering in search of food that was not there. A coppersmith was...
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Talbot Mundy
THE GRAY MAHATMA Meldrum Strange has "a way" with him. You need all your tact to get him past the quarreling point; but once that point is left behind there isn't a finer business boss in the universe. He likes to put his ringer on a desk-bell and feel somebody jump in Tibet or Wei-hei-wei or Honolulu. That's Meldrum Strange. When he sent me from San Francisco, where I was enjoying a...
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Talbot Mundy
Chapter I Suckled were we in a school unkindOn suddenly snatched deductionAnd ever ahead of you (never behind!)Over the border our tracks you'll find,Wherever some idiot feels inclinedTo scatter the seeds of ruction. For eyes we be, of Empire, we!Skinned and Puckered and quick to seeAnd nobody guesses how wise we be.Unwilling to advertise we be.But, hot on the trail of ties, we beThe pullers of...
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Talbot Mundy
Chapter One Parthians, Medes and Elamites SALVETE! Oh ye, who tread the trodden pathAnd keep the narrow lawIn famished faith that Judgment DayShall blast your sluggard mists awayAnd show what Moses saw!Oh thralls of subdivided time,Hours Measureless I singThat own swift ways to wider scenes,New-plucked from heights where Vision preensA white, unwearied wing!No creed I preach to bend dull thoughtTo see...
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Talbot Mundy
CHAPTER I Let a man, an arrow, and an answer each go straight. Each is his own witness. God is judge.—EASTERN PROVERB. A Sikh who must have stood about six feet without his turban—and only imagination knows how stately he was with it—loomed out of the violet mist of an Indian morning and scrutinized me with calm brown eyes. His khaki uniform, like two of the medal ribbons on his breast, was new,...
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