safety by declaring who he was.
But with British soldiers, none of whom would probably understand a word
he said, and all heated with the excitement of battle, he might get the
bayonet first and enquiry afterwards. However, something had to be done;
so up he jumped and, holding up his hands, yelled, "Stop! stop! I am a
friend of the British."

"'Ullo, 'ere's another bloomin' ghazi! 'ave at 'im, Bill!" was the brisk
rejoinder, in the familiar tongue of a British soldier of the 17th Foot.

And "'ave at 'im" they most assuredly would, had not a British officer
arrived in the very nick of time. "He says he is a friend of the
British," the officer shouted; "give him quarter till we find out
whether he speaks the truth or not."

So reluctantly they made Faiz Talab a prisoner, temporarily postponing
the pleasure of sending him to join his numerous friends in the ghazis'
Paradise.

But Faiz Talab said to the officer: "May I see you alone? I have
something important to tell you."

"Yes, certainly," said the officer; "but mind, one of my men covers you
all the time."

And when they drew apart, Faiz Talab took off his shoe; under the lining
was a little piece of paper, which he handed to the officer, and on it
was written in English: _The bearer of this is Duffadar Faiz Talab of
the Guides: please give him every assistance.--F.H. Jenkins,
Lt.-Col_.

CHAPTER XI

THE ADVENTURES OF SHAH SOWAR AND ABDUL MUJID

Many strange adventures have befallen individual men of the Guides, and
many a hairbreadth escape have they had. It was only a few years ago
that the following adventures occurred.

An order reached regimental headquarters to detail a cavalry soldier who
could speak Persian, and one stout of heart and limb, to accompany a
British officer on a mission of considerable danger and uncertainty. He
was to call at a certain house, on a certain day, in Karachi, and to ask
for the name of Smith. Shah Sowar was the trooper selected, and when he
arrived at the place of tryst he was ushered into the presence of Smith.
Smith, however, was not Smith at all, but somebody quite different; not
that it mattered much, for Smith was only his Karachi name.

Next day, on board ship, he became the Sheikh Abdul Qadir, on his way to
Mecca or where not; and from that moment commenced the troubles of the
redoubtable Shah Sowar. To anyone who has the least knowledge of Asia
the extraordinary difficulty which any European must experie