ne would not wait. He would mount the
sacred white elephant and head toward the caves in the hills. Let them
who would decorate the walls of Bala Khan. The threat of Bala Khan put
life into the eight followers, and they were getting ready to move on,
when one of them discovered a small caravan approaching from the west.

Camels? Ha! Here was a chance of leaving Bala Khan's city far in the
rear. And there would be loot besides. Those helmets were never worn
by any save white men. The chief scowled under his shading palm.
Women! Oh, this was going to be something worth while.

When the caravan came within hailing distance the chief of the brigands
stepped forward menacingly. The new arrivals were informed that they
were prisoners, and were bidden to dismount at once.

"But we are on the way to the city of Bala Khan," remonstrated Ramabai.

"Which you left this morning!" jeered the chief.

"Dismount!"

"But I am selling opium there!"

"Opium!"

"Where is it? Give it to us!" cried one of the brigands.

The chief thought quickly. If his men would smoke they should suffer
the penalty of being left at the well to await the arrival of the
tender Bala Khan. The white elephant was worth ten thousand rupees.
He might not be obliged to share these bags of silver. His men could
not complain. They had discharged him. Let them have the pipes. He
himself would only pretend to smoke.

But the first whiff of the fumes was too much for his will power. He
sucked in the smoke, down to the bottom of his very soul, and suddenly
found peace. The superdrug with which the poppy had been mixed was
unknown to Ramabai, but he had often witnessed tests of its potency.
It worked with the rapidity of viper venom. Within ten minutes after
the first inhalation the nine brigands sank back upon the sand, as
nearly dead as any man might care to be.

At once the elephant was liberated, and the party made off toward the
town. Colonel Hare, suspicious of everything these days, marveled over
the simplicity of the trick and the smoothness with which it had been
turned. He began to have hope for the future. Perhaps this time they
were really going to escape from this land accursed.

There was great powwowing and salaaming at the gate as the sacred white
elephant loomed into sight. The old Brahmin who had charge of him wept
for joy. He was still a personage, respected, salaamed to, despite the
preponderance of Mohammedans.