rolled the great stone into its place again. Mounting the sorrel he rode
swiftly out into the open, rounded the green point full in view of his
pursuers, and was hid from them in an instant. Then, dismounting, he
swiftly crept back through the long grass into the thicket again, mounted
the mare, and drove her at laboured gallop also around the curve, so that
it seemed to the plainsmen following that both men had gone that way. He
mounted the sorrel again, and loosing a long sash from his waist drew it
through the mare's bit. The mare, lightened of the weight, followed
well. When the plainsmen came to the cape of green, they paused not by
the secret place, for it seemed to them that two had ridden past and not
one.

The Son of Pango Dooni had drawn pursuit after himself, for it is the law
of the hills that a hillsman shall give his life or all that he has for a
brother-in-blood.

When Cumner's Son had gone a little way he understood it all! And he
would have turned back, but he knew that the hillsman had ridden far
beyond his reach. So he ran as swiftly as he could; he climbed where it
might seem not even a chamois could find a hold; his eyes scarcely seeing
the long, misty valley, where the haze lay like a vapour from another
world. There was no sound anywhere save the brawling water or the lonely
cry of the flute-bird. Here was the last refuge of the hillsmen if they
should ever be driven from the Neck of Baroob. They could close up every
entrance, and live unscathed; for here was land for tilling, and wood,
and wild fruit, and food for cattle.

Cumner's Son was supple and swift, and scarce an hour had passed ere he
came to a steep place on the other side, with rough niches cut in the
rocks, by which a strong man might lift himself up to safety. He stood a