They were disappointed when the pilfering resumed, for a tribal Hillman
would generally rather fight than eat, and would always prefer his
dinner from a dead enemy's cooking-pot. They sat about for a long
time, considering whether there were not excuse enough for war in any
case and listening to the intricately detailed information brought by
the deserting watchmen. And as they discussed things, but before they
had time to decide on any plan, the Brigadier commanding the Irregulars
got wind of them.

He was a man who did not worry about the feelings of senile heads of
red-tape-bound departments; nor was he particularly hidebound by
respect for the laws of evidence. When he knew a thing, he knew it;
then he either acted or did not act, as the circumstances might
dictate. And when the deed was done or left undone, and was quite
beyond the reach of criticism, he would send in a verbose, voluminous
report, written out in several colored inks, on all the special forms
be could get hold of. The heads of departments would be too busy for
the next twelvemonth trying to get the form of the report straightened
out to be able to give any attention to the details of it; and then it
would be too late. But he was a brigadier, and what he could do with
impunity and quiet amusement would have brought down the whole
Anglo-Indian Government in awful wrath on the head of a subordinate.

He heard of the tribesmen under Khumel Khan one evening. At dawn his
tents stood empty and the horse-lines were long bands of brown on the
green grass. The pegs were up; only the burying beetles labored where
the stamping chargers had neighed overnight.

The hunger-making wind that sweeps down, snow-sweetened, from the