d sword ready for use, but, in the absence of any sign of
an enemy, walking at ease, humming quietly to himself a native ditty,
in expectation of speedily seeing his home again, and rejoining his
wife and three children, who have not accompanied him on this journey.

These three camels form his wealth and the centre of his hopes
and prospects, for by means of them does he yearly take down his
merchandise of skins and fruit to the markets of India, and return
in early summer--it is now the month of May--with the proceeds to
his home.

Manak Khan--for that is his name--has been down many a winter
now with his three camels to the Derajat, or that part of India
nearest Afghanistan, and has had more than one scuffle with the
Wazirs, while passing through their land, in defence of his little
stock-in-trade. His fellow-travellers evidently consider him one of
their boldest and best men, for it requires no little knowledge of the
country, and courage, too, to lead a party composed largely of women
and children, and encumbered by a lot of baggage, through mountain
passes, where they are daily and nightly exposed to the attacks of
the mountaineers hiding behind the rocks, or crowning the heights on
either side, and thirsting for their small possessions.

The sun has now disappeared behind the hill before them, and, like
good Muhammadans, they make a brief halt for the evening prayers. The
men cleanse their hands and feet with sand--for there is no water to
be had here--and, selecting a smooth piece of ground, spread their
shawl and, facing the Holy City, perform the requisite number of
genuflections and calls on God.

Suddenly there is the loud report of several guns; the bullets whistle
through the midst of the party, and in a moment all is confusion
and uproar. The camels start up and try to escape; the women seize
their children or the camel-ropes; while the men snatch their guns,
which had been just now put down, and hastily take aim at some dozen
men running down the mountain-side in the direction of the camels,
with their long knives ready for action. But the first volley had
not been without effect: Manak Khan is lying on the ground, blood
flowing fast from a wound in his left leg just above the knee, and
anxiously is he watching what is now a hand-to-hand conflict close by
him. The Wazirs have rushed among the camels and have cut their cords,
and are attempting to drive them off; while the other merchants,
having dis