night, Lewis? I call it confoundedly
mean to go off and leave me to do all the heavy work. I've never been
so busy in my life. Lots of girls and far too few men. This is the
first breathing space I've had. What is it that you want?"

"I am going off this very moment up into the hills. That letter Marker
sent me this morning has been confirmed. Holm, who commands up at the
Forza fort, has just come down very sick, and he says that the
Bada-Mawidi are looking ugly, and that we should take Marker's word. He
wanted to go back himself but he is too ill, and Thwaite can't leave
here, so I am going. I don't expect there will be much risk, but in
case the rising should be serious I want you to do me a favour."

"I suppose I can't come with you," said George ruefully. "I know I
promised to let you go your own way before we came out, but I wish you
would let me stick by you. What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing desperate," said Lewis, laughing. "You can stay on here and
dance till sunrise if you like. But to-morrow I want you to come up to
a certain place at the foot of the hills which I will tell you about,
and wait there. It's about half distance between Forza and the two
Khautmi forts. If the rising turns out to be a simple affair I'll join
you there to-morrow night and we can start our shooting. But if I
don't, I want you to go up to the Khautmi forts and rouse St. John and
Mitchinson and get them to send to Forza. Do you see?"

Lewis had taken out a pencil and began to sketch a rough plan on
George's shirt cuff. "This will give you an idea of the place. You can
look up a bigger map in the hotel, and Thwaite or any one will give you
directions about the road. There's Forza, and there are the Khautmis
about twenty miles west. Half-way between the two is that long Nazri
valley, and at the top is a tableland strewn with boulders where you
shoot mountain sheep. I've been there, and the road between Khautmi and
Forza passes over it. I expect it is a very bad road, but apparently
you can get a little Kashmir pony to travel it. To the north of that
plateau there is said to be nothing but rock and snow for twenty miles
to the frontier. That may be so, but if this thing turns out all right
we'll look into the matter. Anyway, you have got to pitch your tent
to-morrow on that tableland just above the head of the Nazri gully.
With luck I should be able to get to you some time in the afternoon. If
I don't turn up, you go off to Khaut