ance over the land of Burmah. Its rays
pierced the small slit windows in the cell of the fanatic An-we-lota,
and lighted up the fierce faces of the dacoits and desperate men, who
from time to time stealthily entered, until a close-packed band had
collected. Near and far a message had reached these malcontents that an
attack would be made on some of the British outposts scattered here and
there over the newly conquered territory, and held by English officers
and a brave force of Sikhs and Pathans.

'We are as nothing,' said An-we-lota; 'these Ingalay' (Englishmen) 'have
taken our country, and are now setting up their camps everywhere among
us, for these men to spy on us. They say the glorious King Theebaw is
dead. Know we not well that he will come again and reign over us? I am
myself possessed of magic power. I have swallowed the all-powerful
mercury, which makes me proof against bullet and steel, which turn to
water as they touch me. Have I not also the coins of invulnerability
bound in the flesh and blood of my arm?' and the fanatic stripped up the
sleeve of his yellow robe and showed his bare, skinny upper arm, where
the edges of buried coins were visible in deep cuts. 'I am king as well
as priest; I am the Prince Setkia Muntna, who was drowned in the
Irrawaddy seventy years ago. I have come to life again--behold, I am
he.'

Dusky hands were raised in salutation, and one evil-looking warrior
stepped forward: 'I am also proof against bullets. Was I not Theebaw's
chief "Boh"?' (head warrior). 'I am ready to lead any expedition against
these robbing English. See, we are all armed.'

The moonlight flashed on the murderous-looking 'dah' knives raised for
an instant from the folds of the garments of the assembled men.

'Our first attack,' said An-we-lota, 'shall be on the Sardu Station. Our
scout, Al Met, has brought word that much of their force has been called
away to quell the Wahs. Our attack shall be swift and sure, and with our
band here we shall outnumber them, and exterminate the whole while they
are sleeping. When shall we start?'

'No time like the present,' was the cry, and the dahs flew out again and
were uplifted.

In a few minutes the cell was emptied, and the stealthy march began, by
rock and jungle and secret paths, to the doomed outpost station.

The hours passed, and the early morning light showed pale on the blazing
huts of Sardu Fort, and on dead and dying scattered about. Where the
dead were th