rail to Korse Lenken

Sing Lam-chiong dug heels into the flanks of his mule and trotted back
to where Zircon, Scotty, and Rick were jogging along on their respective
mounts.

"Good place to make lunch, in about ten minutes."

"Fine, Sing," Zircon said. "We could use lunch." The scientist looked
down with distaste at his horse, a big hammerheaded black with the lines
of a plow beast. "This creature is about as comfortable as a wooden
sled."

Rick sympathized. His own nag, a pin-eared Chinese pony of a peculiar
mouse-gray color, had no particular gait. He just waddled along, swaying
from side to side and making his rider saddle sore.

Sing saluted and went back to the head of the column, which was made up
of pack mules, each led by a Chinese bearer. There were four of the pack
animals, each laden with the party's gear.

"He certainly knows this trail," Scotty commented.

"A good thing," Rick said. "The camping places are few and far between.
I wish Korse Lenken were nearer."

The party was ten days out of Hong Kong, high in the mountain ranges
that formed the backbone of south Asia. Since leaving the more civilized
part of China they had trekked through alternate valleys and mountain
passes, making good time in the valleys, but slowing to a snail's pace
in the mountains. Sometimes the trail was wide enough for the three of
them to ride abreast. Sometimes it clung to the mountainside with
scarcely room for a single horse or mule. But Sing, leading the way, had
a knack of picking the easiest route.

The Chinese guide was a gift from heaven. The Spindrifters had checked
in at the American Consulate at Chungking, as Bradley had instructed
them, and the consul had offered the loan of one of his own staff. Sing,
normally a clerk at the consulate, had been born and brought up in the
western reaches of outer Sinkiang Province, and he knew the area from
wide travels with his father, a Chinese border police officer. Although
he had never been to Korse Lenken, he had been close to it.

In a short while Sing called out in Chinese to the bearers and they
followed him into a sort of pocket in the mountainside. Scotty, who was
slightly ahead of Rick and Zircon, turned. "We've got company for lunch.
There's another party already here."

In a moment the three Americans were greeting a portly Chinese who rose
to greet them.

"Howdy, Mr. Ko," Rick said cordially. "We were wondering when we would
catch up with you again."