or twice King's horse would put a foot wrong and be spoken to.

"Hold up!"

But from five or ten yards away that might have been a new note
in the gaining wind or even nothing.

After a while King's cheroot went out, and be threw it away. A
little later Rewa Gunga threw away his cigarette. After that, the
veriest five-year-old among the Zakka Khels, watching sleepless
over the rim of some stone watch-tower, could have taken oath that
the Khyber's unburied dead were prowling in search of empty graves.
Probably their uncanny silence was their best protection; but Rewa
Gunga chose to break it after a time.

"King sahib!" he called softly, repeating it louder and more loudly
until King heard him. "Slowly! Not so fast!"

"Why?"

King did not check speed by a fraction, but the Rangar legged his
mare into a canter and forced him to pull out to the left of the
track and make room.

"Because, sahib, there are men among those boulders, and to go too
fast is to make them think you are afraid! To seem afraid is to
invite attack! Can we defend ourselves, with three firearms
between us? Look! What was that?"

They were at the point where the road begins to lead up-hill,