Bøger af Talbot Mundy

The gut of the pass rose toward Zeitoon at a sharp incline--a ramp of slippery wet clay, half a mile long, reaching across from buttress to buttress of the impregnable hills. It was more than a ridden mule could do to keep its feet on the slope, and we had to dismount. It was almost as much as we ourselves could do to make progress with the aid of sticks, and we knew at last what Kagig had meant by his boast that nothing on wheels could approach his mountain home. The poor wretches who had struggled so far with us simply gave up hope and sat down, proposing to die there.

The Guns of the Gods is a novel written by Talbot Mundy. The story is set in the early 20th century and revolves around the British Empire's efforts to expand its influence in the fictional country of Rukh, located in Central Asia. The protagonist of the story is a British officer named James Schuyler, who is sent to Rukh to train the local army and help the British establish control over the country.However, as Schuyler becomes more involved in the affairs of Rukh, he realizes that the British are not the only ones vying for power in the region. There are other forces at play, including a group of Russian revolutionaries who are seeking to overthrow the Tsar and establish a socialist state in Rukh. Schuyler must navigate these complex political and social dynamics while also dealing with his own personal demons.The Guns of the Gods is a thrilling adventure story that explores themes of imperialism, nationalism, and revolution. Mundy's vivid descriptions of the landscape and culture of Central Asia bring the story to life, while his nuanced portrayal of the characters adds depth and complexity to the narrative. Overall, this book is a must-read for anyone interested in historical fiction, adventure stories, or political thrillers.Yasmini left them, and walked alone to the very edge of the pond, where she stood still for several minutes, apparently gazing at her own reflection in the moonlit water--or perhaps listening. There was no sign of any one else, nor sound of footfall. Then, as if the reflection satisfied, or she had heard some whisper meant for her and none else, she began to dance, moving very slowly in the first few rhythmic steps, resembling a water-goddess, the clinging silk displaying her young outline as she bent and swayed.This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the old original and may contain some imperfections such as library marks and notations. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions, that are true to their original work.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

King of the Khyber Rifles is a novel by British writer Talbot Mundy. Captain Athelstan King is a secret agent for the British Raj at the beginning of the First World War. Heavily influenced both by Mundy's own unsuccessful career in India and by his interest in theosophy, it describes King's adventures among the (mostly Muslim) tribes of the north with the mystical woman adventuress, princess Yasmini and the Turkish mullah Muhammed Anim. Like Greenmantle by John Buchan, also first published in 1916, it deals with the possibility that Turkey might try to stir Muslims into a jihad against the British Empire. The Khyber Rifles was and is an actual regiment. What was to be Mundy's third novel was originally serialised in Everybody's Magazine in nine parts from May 1916 illustrated by Joseph Clement Coll.It was published in book form in November 1916.The book gave many characters and themes to the book The Peshawar Lancers, including the main character, Athelstane King.... Talbot Mundy (born William Lancaster Gribbon, 23 April 1879 - 5 August 1940) was an English-born American writer of adventure fiction. Based for most of his life in the United States, he also wrote under the pseudonym of Walter Galt. Best known as the author of King of the Khyber Rifles and the Jimgrim series, much of his work was published in pulp magazines. Mundy was born to a conservative middle-class family in Hammersmith, London. Educated at Rugby College, he left with no qualifications and moved to British India, where he worked in administration and then journalism. He relocated to East Africa, where he worked as an ivory poacher and then as the town clerk of Kisumu. In 1909 he moved to New York City in the U.S., where he found himself living in poverty. A friend encouraged him to start writing about his life experiences, and he sold his first short story to Frank Munsey's magazine, The Scrap Book, in 1911. He soon began selling short stories and non-fiction articles to a variety of pulp magazines, such as Argosy, Cavalier, and Adventure. In 1914 Mundy published his first novel, Rung Ho!, soon followed by The Winds of the World and King of the Khyber Rifles, all of which were set in British India and drew upon his own experiences. Critically acclaimed, they were published in both the U.S. and U.K. Becoming a U.S. citizen, in 1918 he joined the Christian Science new religious movement, and with them moved to Jerusalem to establish the city's first English-language newspaper. Returning to the U.S. in 1920, he began writing the Jimgrim series and saw the first film adaptations of his stories. Spending time at the Theosophical community of Lomaland in San Diego, California, he became a friend of Katherine Tingley and embraced Theosophy. Many of his novels produced in the coming years, most notably Om: The Secret of Ahbor Valley and The Devil's Guard, reflected his Theosophical beliefs. He also involved himself in various failed business ventures, including an oil drilling operation in Tijuana, Mexico. During the Great Depression he supplemented his career writing novels and short stories by authoring scripts for the radio series Jack Armstrong, the All-American Boy. In later life he suffered from diabetes, eventually dying of complications arising from the disease. During Mundy's career his work was often compared with that of his more commercially successful contemporaries, H. Rider Haggard and Rudyard Kipling, although unlike their work his adopted an anti-colonialist stance and expressed a positive interest in Asian religion and philosophy. His work has been cited as an influence on a variety of later science-fiction and fantasy writers, and he has been the subject of two biographies.

Talbot Mundy (1879 - 1940) was an English-born American writer of adventure fiction. Based for most of his life in the United States, he also wrote under the pseudonym of Walter Galt. Best known as the author of King of the Khyber Rifles and the Jimgrim series, much of his work was published in pulp magazines. In this book: OM - The Secret of Ahbor Valley The Ivory Trail King--of the Khyber Rifles

Hira Singh is the story of a regiment of Sikh cavalry who are captured in battle in Flanders in the early days of World War I. The book narrates the adventures faced by these troops as they escape from captivity and under the leadership of the hero of the story Ranjoor Singh, a Sikh officer, they try to make their way back to India under conditions of great difficulty.

Hira Singh (or Hira Singh: When India Came to Fight in Flanders) is a short novel by Talbot Mundy, originally published (under the title Hira Singh's Tale) as a four-part serial in Adventure Magazine in October and November 1917, and published in book form in 1918 by Cassell (London) and Bobbs-Merrill (Indianapolis). The hero of the story is a Sikh officer, Ranjoor Singh, an earlier adventure of whom is recounted in the novel The Winds of the World.

Yasmini, the Indian princess who has had a part in others of the author's tales is the heroine of this story, and a young American couple have a part in the action. Intricate plot and picturesque settings.

The Eye of Zeitoon is a novel written by Talbot Mundy. Set in the early 20th century, the story follows the adventures of adventurer and spy, O'Conner, as he travels to the Middle East to retrieve a valuable artifact known as the Eye of Zeitoon. The Eye of Zeitoon is a precious gem that is believed to have magical powers and is the key to unlocking the secrets of an ancient civilization. O'Conner is joined on his journey by a group of characters including a beautiful Frenchwoman, a Kurdish warrior, and a wise old man. Together, they must navigate treacherous terrain, avoid dangerous enemies, and solve puzzles to find the Eye of Zeitoon. Along the way, they encounter a host of colorful characters, including a band of rebels, a ruthless warlord, and a mysterious woman who seems to hold the key to unlocking the secrets of the Eye of Zeitoon. As O'Conner and his companions draw closer to their goal, they must confront their own fears and weaknesses and overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles. The Eye of Zeitoon is a thrilling adventure story filled with action, suspense, and intrigue that will keep readers on the edge of their seats from beginning to end.The gut of the pass rose toward Zeitoon at a sharp incline--a ramp of slippery wet clay, half a mile long, reaching across from buttress to buttress of the impregnable hills. It was more than a ridden mule could do to keep its feet on the slope, and we had to dismount. It was almost as much as we ourselves could do to make progress with the aid of sticks, and we knew at last what Kagig had meant by his boast that nothing on wheels could approach his mountain home. The poor wretches who had struggled so far with us simply gave up hope and sat down, proposing to die there.This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the old original and may contain some imperfections such as library marks and notations. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions, that are true to their original work.

King of the Khyber Rifles, published in 1916, is a rousing tale of adventure on the Northwest Frontier on India. The author, Talbot Mundy (1879-1940), was born in England. After an adventurous life in various parts of the world he settled in the United States in 1911 where he began his writing career. He would go on to become one of the masters of the adventure genre. King of the Khyber Rifles opens in 1914. The outbreak of the European war poses major problems for the British authorities in India. Garrisons have been stripped of men to fight in Europe and India is now held by a perilously small contingent of British soldiers backed by native troops. And of course there is trouble on the Northwest Frontier. There is always trouble on the Northwest Frontier, but now that the fierce hill tribesmen know that the British army in India has been seriously weakened there is likely to be more trouble than usual. There is talk of a jihad.

"Aie! Did you hear him reprimand me? By the beard of God's prophet, that is a man of men! So was his father! Now I will tell Alwa and the others that I bring a man to them! By the teeth of God and my own honor I will swear to it! His first tiger --he had never seen a tiger! --in the dark, and unexpected --caught by it, to all seeming, like a trapped man in a cage --no lamp --no help at hand, or so he thought until it was all over. And he ran at the tiger! And then, 'you come with your shoes on, Mahommed Gunga --why, forsooth?' Did you hear him? By the blood of Allah, we have a man to lead us!"

A Blood-red sun rested its huge disk upon a low mud wall that crested a rise to westward, and flattened at the bottom from its own weight apparently. A dozen dried-out false-acacia-trees shivered as the faintest puff in all the world of stifling wind moved through them; and a hundred thousand tiny squirrels kept up their aimless scampering in search of food that was not there.

Howrah City bows the knee More or less to masters three, King, and Prince, and Siva. Howrah City pays in pain Taxes which the royal twain Give to priests, to give again (More or less) to Siva. THAT was no time or place for any girl of twenty to be wandering unprotected. Rosemary McClean knew it; the old woman, of the sweeper caste, that is no caste at all, -the hag with the flat breasts and wrinkled skin, who followed her dogwise, and was no more protection than a toothless dog, -knew it well, and growled about it in incessant undertones that met with neither comment nor response. "Leave a pearl of price to glisten on the street, yes!" she grumbled. "Perhaps none might notice it-perhaps! But her-here-at this time-" She would continue in a rumbling growl of half-prophetic catalogues of evil-some that she had seen to happen, some that she imagined, and not any part of which was in the least improbable. As the girl passed through the stenching, many-hued bazaar, the roar would cease for a second and then rise again. Turbaned and pugreed-Mohammedan and Hindoo-men of all grades of color, language, and belief, but with only one theory on women, would stare first at the pony that she rode, then at her, and then at the ancient grandmother who trotted in her wake. Low jests would greet the grandmother, and then the trading and the gambling would resume, together with the under-thread of restlessness that was so evidently there and yet so hard to lay a finger on. The sun beat down pitilessly-brass-like the din of cymbals. Beneath the sun helmet that sat so squarely and straightforwardly on the tidy chestnut curls, her face was pale. She smiled as she guided her pony in and out amid the roaring throng, and carefully refused to see the scowls, her brave little shoulders seconded a pair of quiet, brave gray eyes in showing an unconquerable courage to the world, and her clean, neat cotton riding-habit gave the lie and the laugh in one to poverty; but, as the crowd had its atmosphere of secret murmuring, she had another of secret anxiety.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

It was not until they had debouched (as Crothers termed it) to their half-right front and had taken to a narrow one-man track that ran below the wall that any over attention was paid them. Suddenly a hook-nosed Asiatic gentleman emerged through the once-was gateway-- a picture of a Bible shepherd but for the long-barreled gun he carried instead of crook--a brown shadow against brown masonry.

""The Eye of Zeitoon"" is a novel by Talbot Mundy that takes place during World War I in the Ottoman Empire. The story follows the adventures of an American named O'Flanagan, who is sent to Zeitoon to investigate rumors of a valuable treasure hidden in the mountains. Along the way, he meets a beautiful Armenian woman named Yasmini, who is on a mission to save her people from persecution. Together, they navigate through dangerous terrain, encounter treacherous enemies, and uncover secrets that could change the course of the war. As O'Flanagan and Yasmini work to achieve their goals, they also develop a deep connection that challenges their beliefs and puts them both in danger. ""The Eye of Zeitoon"" is a thrilling tale of adventure, romance, and political intrigue that transports readers to a fascinating time and place in history.The gut of the pass rose toward Zeitoon at a sharp incline--a ramp of slippery wet clay, half a mile long, reaching across from buttress to buttress of the impregnable hills. It was more than a ridden mule could do to keep its feet on the slope, and we had to dismount. It was almost as much as we ourselves could do to make progress with the aid of sticks, and we knew at last what Kagig had meant by his boast that nothing on wheels could approach his mountain home. The poor wretches who had struggled so far with us simply gave up hope and sat down, proposing to die there.This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the old original and may contain some imperfections such as library marks and notations. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions, that are true to their original work.

King of the Khyber Rifles is a novel by British writer Talbot Mundy. Captain Athelstan King is a secret agent for the British Raj at the beginning of the First World War. Heavily influenced both by Mundy's own unsuccessful career in India and by his interest in theosophy, it describes King's adventures among the (mostly Muslim) tribes of the north with the mystical woman adventuress, princess Yasmini and the Turkish mullah Muhammed Anim. Like Greenmantle by John Buchan, also first published in 1916, it deals with the possibility that Turkey might try to stir Muslims into a jihad against the British Empire.

A Sikh who must have stood about six feet without his turban-and only imagination knows how stately he was with it-loomed out of the violet mist of an Indian morning and scrutinized me with calm brown eyes. His khaki uniform, like two of the medal ribbons on his breast, was new, but nothing else about him suggested rawness. Attitude, grayness, dignity, the unstudied strength of his politeness, all sang aloud of battles won. Battles with himself they may have been-but they were won. I began remembering ice-polished rocks that the glaciers once dropped along Maine valleys, when his quiet voice summoned me back to India and the convalescent camp beyond whose outer gate I stood. Two flags on lances formed the gate and the boundary line was mostly imaginary; but one did not trespass, because at about the point where vision no longer pierced the mist there stood a sentry, and the grounding of a butt on gravel and now and then a cough announced others beyond him again. "I have permission," I said, "to find a certain Risaldar-major Ranjoor Singh, and to ask him questions."

This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

This Is A New Release Of The Original 1916 Edition.

Oh, ye shall burst the ties that bind If ye will come with me! It is written with authority of Tarsus that once it was no mean city, but that is a tale of nineteen centuries ago. The Turko-Italian War had not been fought when Fred Oakes took the fever of the place, although the stage was pretty nearly set for it and most of the leading actors were waiting for their cue. No more history was needed than to grind away forgotten loveliness.

THAT was no time or place for any girl of twenty to be wandering unprotected. Rosemary McClean knew it; the old woman, of the sweeper caste, that is no caste at all, -the hag with the flat breasts and wrinkled skin, who followed her dogwise, and was no more protection than a toothless dog, -knew it well, and growled about it in incessant undertones that met with neither comment nor response. "Leave a pearl of price to glisten on the street, yes!" she grumbled. "Perhaps none might notice it-perhaps! But her-here-at this time-" She would continue in a rumbling growl of half-prophetic catalogues of evil-some that she had seen to happen, some that she imagined, and not any part of which was in the least improbable. As the girl passed through the stenching, many-hued bazaar, the roar would cease for a second and then rise again. Turbaned and pugreed-Mohammedan and Hindoo-men of all grades of color, language, and belief, but with only one theory on women, would stare first at the pony that she rode, then at her, and then at the ancient grandmother who trotted in her wake. Low jests would greet the grandmother, and then the trading and the gambling would resume, together with the under-thread of restlessness that was so evidently there and yet so hard to lay a finger on.

Talbot Mundy (born William Lancaster Gribbon) (April 23, 1879 - August 5, 1940) was an English writer. He also wrote under the pseudonym Walter Galt. Born in London, at age 16 he ran away from home and began an odyssey in India, Africa, and other parts of the Near and Far East. Mundy spent much of his early life as a "confidence trickster" and petty criminal. However, once Mundy moved to the United States, and "been nearly killed in a mugging", his personality changed to an "honest and upright citizen". By age 29, he had begun using the name Talbot Mundy. Mundy started his writing career in 1911.-Wikipe

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

Yasmini "Set down my thoughts not yours if the tale is to be worth the pesa." The why and wherefore of my privilege to write a true account of the Princess Yasmini's early youth is a story in itself too long to tell here; but it came about through no peculiar wisdom. I fell in a sort of way in love with her, and that led to opportunity. She never made any secret of the scorn with which she regards those who singe wings at her flame. Rather she boasts of it with limit-overreaching epithets. Her respect is reserved for those rare men and women who can meet her in unfair fight and, if not defeat her, then come close to it. She asks no concessions on account of sex. Men's passions are but weapons forged for her necessity; and as for genuine love-affairs, like Cleopatra, she had but two, and the second ended in disaster to herself. This tale is of the first one that succeeded, although fraught with discontent for certain others. The second affair came close to whelming thrones, and I wrote of that in another book with an understanding due, as I have said, to opportunity, and with a measure of respect that pleased her.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

Golden Antioch lay like a jewel at a mountain's throat. Wide, intersecting streets, each nearly four miles long, granite-paved, and marble-colonnaded, swarmed with fashionable loiterers. The gay Antiochenes, whom nothing except frequent earthquakes interrupted from pursuit of pleasure, were taking the air in chariots, in litters, and on foot; their linen clothes were as riotously picturesque as was the fruit displayed in open shop-fronts under the colonnades, or as the blossom on the trees in public gardens, which made of the city, as seen from the height of the citadel, a mosaic of green and white.

A watery July sun was hurrying toward a Punjab sky-line, as if weary of squandering his strength on men who did not mind, and resentful of the unexplainable-a rainy-weather field-day. The cold steel and khaki of native Indian cavalry at attention gleamed motionless between British infantry and two batteries of horse artillery. The only noticeable sound was the voice of a general officer, that rose and fell explaining and asserting pride in his command, but saying nothing as to the why of exercises in the mud. Nor did he mention why the censorship was in full force. He did not say a word of Germany, or Belgium. In front of the third squadron from the right, Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh sat his charger like a big bronze statue. He would have stooped to see his right spur bettor, that shone in spite of mud, for though he has been a man these five-and-twenty years, Ranjoor Singh has neither lost his boyhood love of such things, nor intends to; he has been accused of wearing solid silver spurs in bed. But it hurt him to bend much, after a day's hard exercise on a horse such as he rode. Once-in a rock-strewn gully where the whistling Himalayan wind was Acting Antiseptic-of-the-Day-a young surgeon had taken hurried stitches over Ranjoor Singh's ribs without probing deep enough for an Afghan bullet; that bullet burned after a long day in the saddle. And Bagh was-as the big brute's name implied-a tiger of a horse, unweakened even by monsoon weather, and his habit was to spring with terrific suddenness when his rider moved on him. So Ranjoor Singh sat still. He was willing to eat agony at any time for the squadron's sake-for a squadron of Outram's Own is a unity to marvel at, or envy; and its leader a man to be forgiven spurs a half-inch longer than the regulation. As a soldier, however, he was careful of himself when occasion offered.