ly he should be mistaken about the
character of those winged giants--those tall scavengers he had seen
thousands of times stalking pompously along the sandy shores of the
sacred Ganges? It was not possible for him, to have a doubt about the
identity of the birds, who were now throwing their shadows over that
lone lake of the Himalayas. He had no doubt. The very certainty that
the birds above him were the gigantic cranes of the Ganges--the sacred
birds of Brahma--caused him to utter a sort of frenzied shout, and at
the same time, dropping his "sack of beans" into the water!

He needed not to look at the colour of the birds, to note that they were
brown black above, and white underneath. The naked vulture neck with
its pouch-like appendage of brick-red hue; the silken feathers of bluish
white under the tail--those precious plumes well-known and worn by the
ladies of many lands under the appellation of _marabout feathers_--all
were recognised at a glance.

Even quicker than either of his youthful comrades had the Hindoo
identified the birds. A single glance sufficed, and simultaneously with
that glance had the cry fallen from his lips, and the sack of
Pythagorean beans from his grasp.

The birds were flying slowly, and to all appearance _laboriously_: as if
wearied of wing. They appeared to be in search of some roost on which
to repose themselves.

That they had entered the valley with this intention was made evident a
few moments after: for having made a circuit round the little lake, both
at the same instant ceased to ply their long pinions, and drawing their
wings suddenly in to their bodies, they settled down upon the shore.

The spot upon which they had chosen to alight was the prominence
terminating a little peninsula that protruded out almost to the bed of
lilies, and from which the three waders had themselves descended into
the water. As the latter now stood knee-deep among the aquatic plants,
they were distant not more than twenty paces from the point of this
peninsula.

The storks, after alighting, stood upon the shore in erect attitudes--
apparently as unconcerned about the presence of our three adventurers,
as if the latter were only overgrown stalks of the Pythagorean bean--
utterly incapable of doing them an injury.

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX.

THE ADJUTANTS.

The brace of gigantic birds, that had thus alighted by the shore of the
little lake, were, to say the least, uncouth creatures; for the w