shall pay for my headache and the sickness of my
comrades. Chalu! And your white woman; she shall give a ransom of her
own!"

The village jutted out into the desert after the fashion of a
peninsula. On the west of it lay another stretch of sand. They
followed the verdure till they reached the base of the rocky hills,
which were barren of any vegetation; huge jumbles of granite the color
of porphyry. During the night they made about ten miles, and at dawn
were smothered by one of those raging sand-storms, prevalent in this
latitude. They had to abandon the trap cage and seek shelter in a
near-by cave. Here they remained huddled together till the storm died
away.

"It has blown itself out," commented the chief. Then he spoke to
Ramabai. "Who is this man?" with a nod toward the colonel.

"He is an American."

"He came for Allaha?"

"Yes," said Ramabai unsuspiciously.

"Ha! Then that great prince did not lie."

"What prince?" cried Ramabai, now alarmed.

"The Prince Durga Ram. Three fat bags of silver, he said, would he pay
me for the white hunter with the white hair. It is the will of Allah!"

The colonel's head sank upon his knees. Kathlyn patted his shoulder.

"Father, I tell you mind not the mouthings of a vile guru. We shall
soon be free."

"Kit, this time, if I return to Allaha, I shall die. I feel it in my
bones."

"And I say no!"

The chief turned to Ramabai. "You and the woman with you shall this
day seek two camels of the five you borrowed from Bala Khan. You will
journey at once to Allaha. But do not waste your time in stopping to
acquaint Bala Khan. At the first sign of armed men each of those left
shall die in yonder tiger cage."

"We refuse!"

"Then be the first to taste the tiger's fangs!"

The chief called to his men to seize Ramabai and Pundita, when Kathlyn
interfered.

"Go, Ramabai; it is useless to fight against these men who mean all
they say, and who are as cruel as the tiger himself."

"It shall be as the Mem-sahib says," replied Ramabai resignedly.

* * * * * *

One morning Umballa entered the judgment hall of the palace, disturbed
in mind. Anonymous notes, bidding him not to persecute Ramabai and his
wife further, on pain of death. He had found these notes at the door
of his zenana, in his stables, on his pillows. In his heart he had
sworn the death of Ramabai; but here was a phase upon which he had set
no calculation.