ickest lay a young English officer gasping, 'Inez, my
darling, we shall meet again soon, and our little son----'

Close at hand lay the fanatic, An-we-lota, dead, his magic coins and
mercury-fed body no proof against British steel.

From the distance there came the tread of a returning force--too
late!--and in the deepest shades of the jungle a native woman, with
horror-stricken face, pressed forward through tangle and thorn, with a
living, wailing bundle clasped close to her breast.

How many days she spent in weary wandering over well-nigh a hundred
miles of jungle and plain, helped by log-boat up strange waters, ever
heading for the homes of her people, the Karens--a bourne she was never
to reach--who can say?

* * * * *

It was early morning. The first faint streaks of dawn were chasing the
night shadows from hill and valley. Early risers in a little jungle
village far distant from Fort Sardu shivered as they rose from their
sleeping-places, and pushing aside the curiously woven mats, hung from
the eaves of the sloping roofs, descended to the waking world outside.
The native dogs howled hideously as they were unceremoniously driven
from the still smouldering embers of last night's fires.

Maung Yet, one of the first astir, twisted the folds of his waist-cloth
closer round him, and looked forth upon the morning. The rising sun was
turning into gold and bronze the ripening paddy fields close at hand,
glorifying the reed roofs of the native huts under the feathery palms,
and gilding the distant belt of jungle, stretching away to the horizon.

The huts of the Tounghi tribe were raised breast-high on stout posts, as
protection against wild beasts and snakes. Many dark-skinned natives
moving around in busy preparation showed that the labours of the day
would be beginning early.

It was the time of the Burmese harvest, and the first of the ripe paddy
fields would be gathered in that day. Already might be heard the hoarse
voice of crows, and the screams of hundreds of bright-hued parrakeets,
descending for their feast on the precious grain. At the sound, many of
the village youths ran up quickly, and with cries and rude bird-clappers
scared the birds away, only to set to work again at some more distant
spot.

Many and various were the sounds echoing around Maung Yet, and ever and
anon he seemed to distinguish from among them a sound like a human cry.
Once more it came, and Maung stoo