st great obstacle that cut him
off from India, and from the dear woman, never dearer than at this
moment. It was a risk, of course, and a big one. But mountaineering
implies risks; and the man who is not prepared to face them and sleep
soundly on them, had better stick to his armchair and an office.

The original risk had been increased by the fact that his programme of
exploration had taken longer than he calculated, and now ominous
snow-clouds, a rapidly dwindling food supply, and his own importunate
heart, urged an immediate start for the terrible Wakhan Valley and the
Darkot Pass. It meant a race for life--that he saw plainly enough.
The chances were ten to one against the Pass being open after the 1st
of October--the earliest date by which he could hope to get across.

With a sigh, he closed his diaries, emptied the cup of cocoa at a gulp,
and took out of his breast-pocket a folded leather frame. It contained
a photo of Quita in evening dress--a photo so disturbingly alive that
in general he contented himself with the knowledge that it was there.
But now he sat looking at it long and intently, till the eyes seemed to
soften and speech hovered on the too-expressive lips. Almost the music
of her voice was in his ears, when the night's colossal stillness was
broken by voices of a very different quality--the deep tones of the two
Pathans and the interpreter, who, on this lightly-equipped expedition,
were sharing his tent; while the six little Gurkhas, packed like
sardines into a smaller one, seemed to find the experience as amusing
as they found the whole varied field of life. It takes more than mere
hardship to knock the spirits out of a Gurkha.

As the three men entered, Lenox slipped the frame back into his pocket;
and, with a few friendly words, gave them leave to retire into their
sleeping bags, while Zyarulla laid out his master's 'bed' on the
farther side of the fire. That done, he came forward, and, squatting
on his heels, held out fingers like knotted twigs to the blaze. Lenox,
under a pretence of reading, sat watching him spellbound, knowing
precisely what would happen next. Nor was he mistaken. Presently the
thawed fingers fumbled at his kummerbund, produced a discoloured twist
of paper, opened it, and taking out two familiar dark pellets, tossed
them down his throat. In the act he met his master's gaze fixed on him
with strange intensity, and at once two more pellets appeared upon his
palm.