We use cookies
When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Your cookies settings
Strictly cookie settingsAlways Active
Chapter 12
Torkrud, north-west frontier July 1863 Dawn brought little relief as the heat rose with the sun, baking the handful of men who sheltered behind the stone-and-mud parapets on the lookout tower. With the sun came the flies, attracted by the blood on the pile of dead bodies. The sobbing of the wounded Pashtun had ceased. He lay a few yards from the tower, his twisted body furred with flies. "We should throw them over the side." Hassan nodded to the corpses. "Soon they will stink." "Don"t your people hold their dead in high esteem?" Jack asked. "Don"t they value men killed in battle?" "That is true, sahib, but these men are not Guides." Hassan dismissed the bodies as if they were so much carrion. "We could cut off their heads." Zaman added various other anatomical details that Jack prefer
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD
