pward, and his companions caught sight of that which had
taken his attention.

"What are those two fellows doing there?" whispered Roberts.

"Scouting, evidently," said Bracy. "I saw their arms."

"So did I," replied Roberts. "Let's get back at once, and pick up those
lads as we go. One never knows what may come next. There may be
mischief afloat instead of peace."

At that moment Drummond gave Bracy a sharp nudge, and jerked his head in
another direction.

"More of them," said Bracy gravely; "yes, and more higher up. Well,
this doesn't look friendly."

"No," said Roberts. "Look sharp; they haven't seen us. Let's get back
and take in the news."

It was a difficult task for the three young Englishmen to compete with
men trained as mountaineers from childhood; but the living game of chess
had to be played on the Dwats' own ground; and for a short time the
party of officers carefully stole from rock to rock and from patch of
trees to patch of trees till Roberts stopped short.

"No good," he said softly. "I feel sure that the beggars are watching
us."

"Yes," said Bracy; "they have the advantage of us from being on the high
ground. Let's go on openly and as if in perfect ignorance of their
being near."

By this time the young officers were on the farther side of the stream,
below the falls, with it between them and the men they wished to turn
back and take with them to the fort.

"What do you propose doing now?" asked Drummond.

"I'll show you," replied Roberts, and, parting the underwood, he
threaded his way till he was close to the deep gully down which the
water from the falls raced; and then selecting the most open spot he
could, he placed his whistle to his lips and blew. The rallying whistle
rose up the mountain-slope towards the falls, like the note of some wild
bird startled from its lair among the moist depths of the gully.

To their great delight, the call had instant effect; for, unwittingly,
they had made their way to where they halted just level with the party
of their men who were not forty yards away. Consequently, before the
note had died away the voice of Gedge was plainly heard.

"I say, boys," he cried, "that's a whistle."

"Nobody said it was a bugle," was the laughing reply.

"But it means cease firing," said Gedge.

"That it don't, stoopid, for no one's shooting. Get out! Only some
kind o' foreign bird."

"I don't care; it is," cried Gedge. "Way ho! Any one there?"