of a score of things. He
had answered George's questions on sport with the readiness of an
expert; he had told a dozen good stories, and in an easy, pleasant way
he had gossiped of books and places, people and politics. His knowledge
struck both men as uncanny. Persons of minute significance in
Parliament were not unknown to him, and he was ready with a theory or an
explanation on the most recondite matters. But coffee and cigars found
him a different man. He ceased to be the enthusiast, the omnivorous and
versatile inquirer, and relapsed into the ordinary good fellow, who is
no cleverer than his neighbours.

"We're confoundedly obliged to you," said George. "Haystoun is keen
enough, but when he was out last time he seems to have been very slack
about the sport."

"Sort of student of frontier peoples and politics, as the newspapers
call it. I fancy that game is, what you say, 'played out' a little
nowadays. It is always a good cry for alarmist newspapers to send up
their circulation by, but you and I, my friend, who have mixed with
serious politicians, know its value."

George nodded. He liked to be considered a person of importance, and he
wanted the conversation to get back to ibex.

"I speak as of a different nation," Marker said, looking towards Lewis.
"But I find the curse of modern times is this mock-seriousness. Some
centuries ago men and women were serious about honour and love and
religion. Nowadays we are frivolous and sceptical about these things,
but we are deadly in earnest about fads. Plans to abolish war, schemes
to reform criminals, and raise the condition of woman, and supply the
Bada-Mawidi with tooth-picks are sure of the most respectful treatment
and august patronage."

"I agree," said Lewis. "The Bada-Mawidi live there?" And he pointed to
the hill line.

Marker nodded. He had used the name inadvertently as an illustration,
and he had no wish to answer questions on the subject.

"A troublesome tribe, rather?" asked Lewis, noticing the momentary
hesitation.

"In the past. Now they are quiet enough."

"But I understood that there was a ferment in the Pamirs. The other
side threatened, you know." He had almost said "your side," but checked
himself.

"Ah yes, there are rumours of a rising, but that is further west. The
Bada-Mawidi are too poor to raise two swords in the whole tribe. You
will come across them if you go north, and I can recommend them as
excellent beaters."

"Is the north