of desert road, with four brief halts for rest; and had spent a
night of suffocating wakefulness in a sun-baked windowless room, built
out from the base of the last post relieved. It was all in the day's
work--as Frontier men understand work. The exposure and long hours in
the saddle had little effect upon his whipcord and iron frame: but a
sharp attack of fever--unrecorded in his letter to his wife--had
slackened his alertness of body and spirit; and it was with an unusual
sense of relief that he faced the last twenty-mile stretch of road,
leaving behind him six fresh men to take up the task of watching the
blank, unchanging face of the hills.

Three hours later, the little party turned their horses' heads towards
Kohat. The sun still smote the uncomplaining earth, and many miles of
riding lay before them. But at least it was the beginning of the end;
a fact which the two stout-hearted chargers seemed to recognise as
clearly as their riders. The Ressaldar, who had not failed to note his
Captain's slight change of bearing, proposed a short cut across
country well known to himself.

"Hazur," he urged, "there runs a long deep nullah, straight as a
lance, across the plain; and as the sun falls lower, it would give
some measure of shade."

"Well spoken, Ressaldar Sahib! I have had my fill of the road. I'm for
the nullah. Come on, men."

And, striking out across country, they vanished from the earth's
surface, entering one of those giant clefts in the clay soil formed by
the early downrush of torrents from the hills.

Suddenly, in the midst of a swinging canter, the Ressaldar reined in
his horse, and the rest followed suit. The old Sikh threw up his head,
as a stag will do at the first whisper of danger. In the strong light
his chiselled face, with its grey beard scrupulously parted and drawn
up under his turban, showed lifeless as a statue; and his eyes had the
far-off intentness of one who listens with every fibre of his being.

Desmond watched him in a growing bewilderment that verged on
impatience.

"What's up now?" he demanded sharply.

But no flicker disturbed the rigid face: the keen eyes gave no sign.
The old man raised a hand as if enjoining silence, dismounted hastily,
and, kneeling down, pressed his ear close against the ground.

Desmond's suspense was short-lived but keen.

In less than ten seconds the Ressaldar was beside him, one hand on his
bridle, a consuming anxiety in his eyes.

"Hazur, it is