With a little luck, the magpies may chirp in peace again soon. Military analysts hope the fighting will end within the next couple of weeks. As of last weekend, the two countries had not yet managed to disentangle themselves from a thorny–and potentially catastrophic–confrontation in the bitterly disputed territory of Kashmir. Publicly, both governments are doing their best to appear calm and tough. Pakistan’s prime minister, Nawaz Sharif, already losing favor at home for not reviving his country’s burnt-out economy, can hardly afford a humiliation in Kashmir. And his New Delhi counterpart, Atal Bihari Vajpayee, has no desire to be seen as soft on Pakistan, with general elections scheduled within the next three months. Behind the scenes, however, both men are searching urgently for an escape route from all-out war.

The quest is not easy. Early last week, on a sweltering Sunday night, Vajpayee was preparing for bed when the phone rang. Sharif was on the line, pleading for a chance to talk. Pakistan miscalculated disastrously this spring when it smuggled some 1,000 professional soldiers across the Line of Control to seize positions on India’s side of the divide. Islamabad said the fighters were Kashmiri freedom fighters, evidently hoping that sympathy for the “insurgents” would bring international pressure on New Delhi to negotiate a settlement. But the plan backfired. Through quiet diplomatic channels, Western governments led by Washington are demanding that Pakistan immediately withdraw its forces from the Indian side of the line. On the telephone with Vajpayee last week, Sharif pushed for a face-saving ceasefire–even as he clung to Islamabad’s official claim that Pakistan has no soldiers in the battle zone. Vajpayee answered Sharif quietly but firmly: “Take your troops back first. Then we will talk.”

That’s not as easy as it may sound. India’s Army has been recapturing its mountaintop bunkers one by one, but only at the cost of vicious fighting. Last week a senior Indian official told NEWSWEEK that Islamabad had privately asked for safe passage to withdraw the infiltrators from the Indian side of the Line of Control. Such a pullout would be a delicate operation. The retreating forces would need some guarantee that India would refrain from shelling or bombing them once they left the safety of their fortified bunkers.

The Indians in turn would need to be sure the move was a full withdrawal, and not merely a feint. The first step would almost certainly have to be a total ceasefire of perhaps 24 hours, to test both sides’ control over their forces, before anyone ventured into the open. “India might consider not training its guns on the retreating forces,” says the senior Indian official. “But [signs of a withdrawal] must come quickly.” In an exclusive interview with NEWSWEEK, India’s national-security adviser, Brajesh Mishra, said his government wants peace–and will not cross the Line of Control–but it must come soon. “We have heavy casualties,” he argued. “So we are also under pressure from our own people to do something to end this conflict. We can’t wait for weeks.”

Sharif can bring his troops home with no public talk of defeat. That’s one benefit of Pakistan’s insistence that none of its soldiers were on India’s side of the line in the first place. Badgered by reporters’ persistent questions last week about the prospects for a troop pullout, Islamabad’s information minister, Mushahid Hussain, demanded: “How can Pakistan withdraw, when Pakistan is not there?” Besides, Pakistan’s military leaders contend, the infiltrators didn’t set out to capture and hold territory. It was all a classic hit-and-run guerrilla campaign, the officers insist. “When the Indians claim they have taken an occupied height from the mujahedin, they never find bodies and they don’t take prisoners,” says Brig. Rashid Qureshi, the Pakistani Army’s information chief. “That’s because the guerrillas have left to attack their next target.” And how does the Pakistani Army know so much about these mysterious infiltrators? Never mind.

Indian officials say Sharif owes them at least a private apology. Vajpayee feels personally betrayed by his Pakistani counterpart. Early this year in Lahore the two leaders shook hands and signed a declaration committing themselves to work toward peace. Since then the fighting in Kashmir has killed more than 200 Indian troops and wounded or maimed nearly 500–a higher toll in the disputed region than during the 1971 war. One particularly sore point for Indian officials has been Pakistan’s stubborn claim that it has no way of controlling the mountain fighters. Before this affair is finished, Vajpayee’s men want their Pakistani counterparts to admit their real role in it, even if they refuse to be honest with the people of Pakistan.

Sharif is running out of friends both at home and abroad. In past disputes with India, Pakistan could always rely on China’s support. Two weekends ago the Pakistani leader flew to Beijing for a scheduled six-day visit. Two days later he flew home in failure; China had refused to take sides this time. Domestically Sharif is under increasing pressure from Army officers frustrated by his self-serving, autocratic ways. The generals remain a major force in Pakistani life. Still, no one expects a reversion to military rule. The Army chief, Gen. Pervez Musharraf, has a reputation as an impeccably professional soldier and a sincere believer in civilian rule. “A good old-fashioned military patriot” is how one Western military observer in Islamabad describes him. Since being named to the post late last year, he seems to have done a thorough job of reorganizing the Army’s top echelons, particularly reducing the power of Islamic extremists who had entrenched themselves in the armed forces. Suspicion is growing that the generals may finally decide Sharif should let another civilian have his job.

Still, India is ready to work with Sharif–if he will only make peace. Musharraf seems willing. “We want to reach a solution that is mutually acceptable to us and to India,” he recently told journalists. Mishra argues that Washingon could speed the process by pressuring Islamabad openly, not just under the table. Ordinary Indians would feel better about ending the battle if they could be sure they weren’t making any unilateral concessions. The national-security chief says the question isn’t whether the Lahore peace process can be revived. “It has to be revived,” he says. The alternative scares even tough old soldiers.