He knew better than to shout, for that would sound like a cry of
distress, and there is no mercy whatever in the "Hills" for lost
wanderers, or for men who seem lost. He had not a doubt there were
men with long jezails lurking not far away, to say nothing of those
responsible for the blue torchlight.

After some thought be mounted and began to hunt the way back,
remembering turns and twists with a gift for direction that natives
might well have envied him. He found his way back to the foot of
the road at a trot, where ninety-nine men out of almost any hundred
would have been lost hopelessly; and close to the road he overtook
Darya Khan, hugging his rifle and staring about like a scorpion at bay.

"Did you expect that blue light, and this galloping away?" he asked.

"Nay, sahib; I knew nothing of it! I was told to lead the way
to Khinjan."

"Come on, then!"

He set his horse at the boulder-strewn slope and had to dismount
to lead him at the end of half a minute. At the end of a minute
both he and the messenger were hauling at the reins and the horse
had grown frantic from fear of falling backward. He shouted for help,
and Ismail and another man came leaping down, looking like the devils
of the rocks, to lend their strength. Ismail tightened his long
girdle and stung the other two with whiplash words, so that Darya
Khan overcame prejudice to the point of stowing his rifle between
some rocks and lending a hand. Then it took all four of them fifteen