wrong direction. There was just a chance that the man, not suspecting
him to bear firearms, might come so near that he would be able to get
first shot; that indeed seemed to be his only chance.

He stood behind the camel and watched them. While they were still too
far away for the matchlock-bearer to fire with any certainty of hitting
him, he shouted--

"Eo! eo! Who are you, and what do you want?"

Like all hill-men, he had a very clear, ringing voice, and the note of
authority in his tone caused them to halt. Then one of them called back
in answer--

"We have come to help you with your rogue of a camel."

"I want no help," he replied. "The camel will rise when Allah wills. I
would not trouble you."

There was silence for a moment, then another voice cried--

"We know not who you are. We want no Afghans here. You must come with us
to our village, and our headman shall hear who you are and say what
shall be done. It may be that he will send you to the chief of
Bahadurgurh."

"What talk is this?" cried Ahmed. "I am a trader, as you see, and I
carry my wares to Delhi. What has the chief of Bahadurgurh to say to the
king?"

"That we shall see," replied the man truculently, advancing. "It will be
better for you to come with us quietly."

"You had better return to your dogs' kennels before you come to harm,"
cried Ahmed, flourishing his talwar. "As you perceive, I am armed, and I
will send you back without arms and legs if you come within my reach."

The men laughed. What was a talwar against a matchlock? The man carrying
the firearm came on ahead of the rest, and advancing to within a short
distance of Ahmed he set the weapon to his shoulder and proceeded coolly
to take aim. This was exactly what Ahmed had calculated upon. The firing
of a matchlock was a somewhat lengthy operation, especially to a
villager. Before the man had time to fire, Ahmed quickly changed the
talwar from his right hand to his left, drew his pistol, and fired over
the camel's back. The man dropped without a sound. At the same moment
Ahmed flung down his pistol, and taking the sword again in his right
hand, drew his knife, vaulted over the animal, and dashed straight at
the knot of villagers.

Taken aback by this unexpected stroke from a man they supposed to be
helpless, the villagers stood irresolute. Before they had recovered
their wits, Ahmed was upon them. The sight of his sword flashing in the
glow of the setting sun was too much for