, while his companions with exclamations of
terror hastily recoiled from him.

"Great Allah! He has been bitten!" exclaimed the horrified Mustad,
almost knocking the young woman off her feet in his rush towards his
master; but one of the others had perceived the monstrous cobra, and,
clubbing his gun, he beat the life out of it with one blow, before it
could glide away into the jungle. It looked as if this part of the
country was specially pestered by the dreadful reptiles.

Almos knew he was doomed. All hope had vanished, and, dropping to the
ground, he bared his bronzed ankle, looked at the tiny points where the
horrible poison had been injected into his system, and then, like the
fatalist be was, he calmly folded his arms and waited for the last
moment that was rushing upon him. He was a faithful follower of the
Prophet and knew how to meet the inevitable that awaits us all. His
companions, awed and silent, stood around, unable to say or do anything
that could give him comfort. Miss Marlowe, after walking part way to
the group, paused and looked at them and at her father, who was
hurrying to the spot. She wondered that Almos had permitted the
killing of the cobra, since the snake is looked upon as sacred in
India, and few natives can be induced to injure one. The Ghoojurs
probably slew it in the flurry of the moment.

Dr. Marlowe had heard the cry and noted the excitement, but did not
suspect the cause until he drew near the spot. Then Mustad, familiar
with the skill of the medical man, beckoned to him and said:

"Make haste, great sahib, Almos has been bitten by a snake; no one can
save him but you."

The stricken chief, from his seat on the ground, looked up in the face
of the white man, of whose wonderful skill he had received proof in his
own self. The countenance of the Ghoojur was of ashen hue, and the
yearning expression of his eyes told of the hope that had been kindled
within his breast.

Now that the physician had dropped into what may be called his
professional character, he was himself again. He set down the caba
containing his instruments, and medicaments, adjusted his glasses, and
stooping over, intently studied the wound made by the cobra. Then he
drew out his watch, as if he were timing the pulse beats of a patient.

"It is one minute and a half since you were bitten," he said, still
holding the timepiece in his hand, but looking into the face of Almos;
"in three more minutes and a