were told to be as careful as they could, for some of the shots went
wide on the left, others on the right. A few struck the rock below me.
The situation was not pleasant, but I thought that at a thousand yards
they ought not to hit me, and I tried to distract my attention by
thinking out what I should do under every possible contingency.

"Presently I felt a crash and a shock, and fell backwards to the ground.
I was not hurt, and on picking myself up saw that the ball had struck
the parapet to the left, just where my guard was sitting, and he lay
covered with its fragments. His turban lay some yards behind him.
Whether he was dead or not I neither knew nor cared.

"I pushed down some of the parapet where I had been sitting, dropped my
cap on the edge outside, so as to make it appear that I had fallen over,
and then picking up the man's turban, ran to the other end of the
platform and scrambled down to the ledge. Then I began to wave my arms
about--I had nothing on above the waist--and in a moment I saw a face
with a uniform cap peer out through the jungle, and a hand was waved. I
made signs to him to make his way to the foot of the perpendicular wall
of rock beneath me. I then unwound the turban, whose length was, I knew,
amply sufficient to reach to the bottom, and then looked round for
something to write on. I had my pencil still in my trousers pocket, but
not a scrap of paper.

"I picked up a flattish piece of rock and wrote on it, 'Get a
rope-ladder quickly, I can haul it up. Ten men in garrison. They are all
under cover. Keep on firing to distract their attention."

"I tied the stone to the end of the turban, and looked over. A
non-commissioned officer of the police was already standing below. I