"Nay-forward!" ordered King.

"Forward?" growled Ismail. "With this man it is ever 'forward!'
Is there neither rest nor fear? Has she bewitched him? Hai! Ye
lazy ones! Ho! Sons of sloth! Urge the mules faster! Beat the
led horse!"

So in weird wan moonlight, King led them forward, straight up the
narrowing gorge, between cliffs that seemed to fray the very bosom
of the sky. He smoked a cigar and stared at the view, as if be
were off to the mountains for a month's sport with dependable
shikarris whom he knew. Nobody could have looked at him and guessed
he was not enjoying himself.

"That man," mumbled Ismail behind him, "is not as other sahibs I
have known. He is a man, this one! He will do unexpected things!"

"Forward!" King called to them, thinking they were grumbling.
"Forward, men of the 'Hills'!"




Chapter VII



The owl he has eyes that are big for his size,
And the night like a book he deciphers;