eck had resolved itself into a band of horsemen. They had
been too far away for him to distinguish individuals and know who and
what they were; but, considering the quarter from which they were
coming, his instant thought was that they were an enemy, and it behoved
him to give his people warning. In that wild country of the border raids
were frequent enough. Especially was a warning necessary to-day, for the
village was in poor condition to defend itself. Only the day before,
Rahmut Khan, his father, had ridden out with all the younger men to raid
horses on the British frontier. Ahmed shrewdly suspected that tidings of
this expedition had been conveyed to Minghal Khan, the chief's
inveterate enemy and rival, and Minghal had taken advantage of it to
make the attack for which he had no doubt long awaited a favourable
occasion. And what occasion could be more favourable than the absence of
the old warrior on an enterprise from which, if at once successful, he
could not return for five or six days, and which, if he found himself at
first baulked in it, might occupy him for a fortnight?

Ahmed was well aware of the danger in which Shagpur lay. The village had
a high wall; but he had no belief that the gates could withstand the
assault of a determined enemy. It would be something to the good,
however, if the assailants could be checked for a time, and they might
be checked by the shutting of the gates. But the villagers could not see
from the walls the advancing band; unless there was some one on the
tower, or Ahmed himself should give warning, the enemy would be upon
them before the gates could be closed, and then it would be a tale of
rapine and massacre. He knew that, make what speed he might, he could
not, if he followed the way he had come, reach the village before the
mounted men. The only chance was to gain the wood, through which, being
on a level, he could run fleetly. Swerving, therefore, from the direct
line to the village, Ahmed scrambled down the rough hillside, leaping
little chasms, springing from rock to rock with the agility of a
mountain goat, yet with circumspection, for should he miss his footing a
sprained ankle would be the least of his mishaps, and Shagpur was lost.

Down and down he went, stumbling, slipping, barking his shins, but never
heeding such slight mishaps so long as nothing brought him to a check.
And now, just as the dark woodland seems at his very feet, he pulls up
with a sudden cry of "Hai