"
As Barlow came to where the town reached to the river bank he saw that
the concourse of people was heading south along the river. This was
rather strange, for a bridge of stone arches traversed by the aid of
two islands the Nahal to the other side. A quarter of a mile lower
down he came to where the river, that above wandered in three channels
over a rocky bed, now glided sluggishly in one channel. It was like a
ribboned lake, smooth in its slow slip over a muddy bed, and circling
in a long sweep to the bank. On the level plain was a concourse of
thousands, horsemen, who sat their lean-flanked Marwari or Cabul horses
as though they waited to swing into a parade, the march past. The
_sowars_ Barlow had seen in the town were in front of him, riding four
abreast, and at a command from their leader, opened up and formed a
scimitar-shaped band, their horses' noses toward the river. As he came
close Barlow saw Kassim in a group of officers, and Hunsa, a soldier on
either side of him, was standing free and unshackled in front of the
Commander. Save for the clanking of a bit, or the clang of a
spear-haft against a stirrup, or the scuffle of a quick-turning horse's
hoofs, a silence rested upon that vast throng.
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