Getting Back in The Saddle

Addmittedly, this is not exactly a model of "if you fall off the bike, get right back on" mentality. On the other hand, I'm trying. So, new goal: 500 words a day, made up if I miss a day. I think I'll start with something fairly easy: poetry analysis. Getting out that closet English major in me. The poem, of course, doesn't count for the wordcount.


The Ballad of East and West
Rudyard Kipling

OH, East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgement Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth!

Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the Border side,
And he has lifted the Colonel's mare that is the Colonel's pride:
He has lifted her out of the stable-door between the dawn and the day,
And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden her far away.

Then up and spoke the Colonel's son that led a troop of the Guides:
``Is there never a man of all my men can say where Kamal hides?''
Then up and spoke Mahommed Khan, the son of the Ressaldar,
``If ye know the track of the morning-mist, ye know where his pickets are.
At dusk he harries the Abazai---at dawn he is into Borair,
But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own place to fare,
So if ye gallop to Fort Bukloh as fast as a bird can fly,
By the favour of God ye may cut him off ere he win to the Tonuge of Jagai,
But if he be passed the Tongue of Jagai, right swiftly turn ye then,
For the length and the breadth of that grisly plain is sown with Kamal's men.
There is rock to the left, and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between,
And ye may hear a breech-bolt snick where never a man is seen.''

The Colonel's son has taken a horse, and a raw rough dun was he,
With the mouth of a bell and the heart of Hell, and the head of a gallows-tree.
The Colonel's son to the Fort has won, they bid him stay to eat--
Who rides at the tail of a Border thief, he sits not long at his meat.
He's up and away from Fort Bukloh as fast as he can fly,
Till he was aware of his father's mare in the gut of the Tonue of Jagai,
Till he was aware of his father's mare with Kamal upon her back,
And when he could spy the white of her eye, he made the pistol crack.
He has fired once, he has fired twice, but the whistling ball went wide.
``Ye shoot like a soldier,'' Kamal said. ``Show now if ye can ride.''

It's up and over the Tongue of Jagai, as blown dust-devils go,
The dun he fled like a stag of ten, but the mare like a barren doe.
The dun he leaned against the bit and slugged his head above,
But the red mare played with the snaffle-bars, as a maiden plays with a glove.
There was rock to the left and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between,
And thrice he heard a breech-bolt snick tho' never a man was seen.
They have ridden the low moon out of the sky, their hoofs drum up the dawn,
The dun he went like a wounded bull, but the mare like a new-roused fawn.
The dun he fell at a water-course--in a woeful heap fell he,
And Kamal has turned the red mare back, and pulled the rider free.

He has knocked the pistol out of his hand--small room was there to strive,
``'Twas only by favour of mine,'' quoth he, ``ye rode so long alive:
There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was not a clump of tree,
But covered a man of my own men with his rifle cocked on his knee.
If I had raised my bridle-hand, as I have held it low,
The little jackals that flee so fast were feasting all in a row:
If I had bowed my head on my breast, as I have held it high,
The kite that whistles above us now were gorged till she could not fly.''

Lightly answered the Colonel's son:--``Do good to bird and beast,
But count who come for the broken meats before thou makest a feast.
If there should follow a thousand swords to carry my bones away,
Belike the price of a jackal's meal were more than a thief could pay.
They will feed their horse on the standing crop, their men on the garnered grain,
The thatch of the byres will serve their fires when all the cattle are slain.
But if thou thinkest the price be fair,--thy brethren wait to sup,
The hound is kin to the jackal-spawn,--howl, dog, and call them up!
And if thou thinkest the price be high, in steer and gear and stack,
Give me my father's mare again, and I'll fight my own way back!''

Kamal has gripped him by the hand and set him upon his feet.
``No talk shall be of dogs,'' said he, ``when wolf and grey wolf meet.
May I eat dirt if thou hast hurt of me in deed or breath;
What dam of lances brought thee forth to jest at the dawn with Death?''
Lightly answered the Colonel's son: ``I hold by the blood of my clan:
Take up the mare for my father's gift,--by God, she has carried a man.!''
The red mare ran to the Colonel's son, and nuzzled against his breast,
``We be two strong men,'' said Kamal then, ``but she loveth the younger best.
So she shall go with a lifter's dower, my turquoise-studded rein,
My broidered saddle and saddle-cloth, and silver stirrups twain.''
The Colonel's son a pistol drew and held it muzzle-end,
``Ye have taken the one from a foe,'' said he; ``will ye take the mate from a friend?''
``A gift for a gift,'' said Kamal straight, ``a limb for the risk of limb.
Thy father has sent his son to me, I'll send my son to him!''

With that he whistled his only son, that dropped from a mountain-crest--
He trod the ling like a buck in spring, and he looked like a lance at rest.
``Now here is thy master,'' Kamal said, ``who leads a troop of the Guides,
And thou must ride at his left side as shield on the shoulder rides.
Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and board and bed,
Thy life is his--thy fate it is to guard him with thy head.
So thou must eat the White Queen's meat, and all her foes are thine,
And thou must harry thy father's hold for the peace of the Border-line,
And thou must make a trooper tough and hack thy way to power--
Belike they will raise thee to Ressaldar when I am hanged in Peshawur.''

They have looked each other between the eyes, and there they found not fault,
They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt:
They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on fire and fresh-cut sod,
On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and the Wondrous Names of God.
The Colonel's son he rides the mare and Kamal's boy the dun,
And two have come back to Fort Bukloh where there went forth but one.
And when they drew to the Quarter-Guard, full twenty swords flew clear--
There was not a man but carried his feud with the blood of the mountaineer.
``Ha' done! ha' done!'' said the Colonel's son. ``Put up the steel at your sides!
Last night ye had struck at a Border thief--to-night 'tis a man of the Guides!''

Oh, East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgement Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth!


This is probably my favorite Kipling poem, overall. To be honest, Kipling was probably not a person who I would have liked, had I met him in person. He seems to have had a real case of ethnocentrism; "the white man's burden" is actually a coinage of his. He comes off as very patronizing to non-white people. Still, he could definitely show respect for individuals, and this poem really displays it. I'd say it's obvious througout the piece that he thinks both Kamal and the colonel's son are equally strong men, with equivalent senses of courage and honor.

There are basically two main reasons why I like this poem so much. First, I'm a sucker for the basic story. I'll admit, I'm a big fan of the "lone hero" sort of drama. If one person is daring all, risking life and limb, and changing the course of history, with a side of mighty river, I'm pretty much there. Sign me up, and, yes, subscribe me to your newsletter, I'm intrigued by your ideas. The poem, obviously, covers this aspect of my taste nicely: lone soldier, following the thief into territory he knows belongs to the enemy, facing almost certain death. And, then, when he catches up, and is put at an even greater disadvantage, he still has the courage to banter. And I like that Kamal respects that. He's obviously an honorable man himself, and respects the colonel's son's courage, just like we're supposed to. (An aside: the colonel's son is really supposed to be the hero of the story, I think. Still, I suspect a very interesting tale could be told from his perspective. To hear him tell it, he's probably a rebel more than a bandit, fighting against an empire that's subjected a large number of his people to foreign rule). Anyway, lone heroics, yay.

The other part, and, I think, the greater, of why I like this poem is the use of language. Whatever else Kipling had, he had a great command of metaphor and similie. Let's take the poem part by part. The first two or three stanzas don't really stand out, but by the forth, we're really starting to get into the good stuff. Right from the start:

"... a raw rough dun was he,
With the mouth of a bell and the heart of Hell, and the head of a gallows-tree."

Damn. To me, that conjures some pretty damn nasty images. Not a horse I'd like to ride, even if I could.

Skipping down a stanza, we have

"...The dun he fled like a stag of ten, but the mare like a barren doe.
The dun he leaned against the bit and slugged his head above,
But the red mare played with the snaffle-bars, as a maiden plays with a glove."

Obviously, the mare is as good a horse as the dun is bad. And you can feel the grace and ease that she's running with, from the description.

Going down another two stanzas, we get out of metaphor territory. But we're now getting to what I think of as the most quotable part of the poem, the part that practically demands to be read aloud. Particularly after the insulting is done, and Kamal starts showing respect.

"... ``No talk shall be of dogs,'' said he, ``when wolf and grey wolf meet."

Finally, I think my favorite part of the poem is the description of the oath of brotherhood.

"They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt:
They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on fire and fresh-cut sod,
On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and the Wondrous Names of God."

Simple, something that you can do anywhere, but still powerful.

Anyway, that's really all I have to say about this one. I must admit, though, at some point I'd love to have the chance to memorize this and recite it. If I had know about this back when I was still doing oratory, back in school, I would probably have chosen it.