Here was an opportunity of striking terror into the tribes. Leaving
Chamberlain and Elliott to continue the pursuit of the main body, I
wheeled my Sepoys into the narrow path and proceeded slowly down it in
extended order, covering the whole ground from cliff to cliff. Not a
jackal could have passed us unseen. The rebels were caught like rats in
a trap.

The defile in which we found ourselves was the most gloomy and majestic
that I have ever seen. On either side naked precipices rose sheer up
for a thousand feet or more, converging upon each other so as to leave a
very narrow slit of daylight above us, which was further reduced by the
feathery fringe of palm trees and aloes which hung over each lip of the
chasm.

The cliffs were not more than a couple of hundred yards apart at the
entrance, but as we advanced they grew nearer and nearer, until a half
company in close order could hardly march abreast.

A sort of twilight reigned in this strange valley, and the dim,
uncertain light made the great, basalt rocks loom up vague and
fantastic. There was no path, and the ground was most uneven, but I
pushed on briskly, cautioning my fellows to have their fingers on their
triggers, for I could see that we were nearing the point where the two
cliffs would form an acute angle with each other.

At last we came in sight of the place. A great pile of boulders was
heaped up at the very end of the pass, and among these our fugitives
were skulking, entirely demoralised apparently, and incapable of
resistance. They were useless as prisoners, and it was out of the
question to let them go, so there was no choice but to polish them off.

Waving my sword, I was leading my men on, when we had a most dramatic
interruption of a sort which I have seen once or twice on the boards of
Drury Lane, but never in real life.

In the side of the cliff, close to the pile of stones where the Hillmen
were making their last stand, there was a cave which looked more like
the lair of some wild beast than a human habitation.

Out of this dark archway there suddenly emerged an old man--such a
very, very old man that all the other veterans whom I have seen were
as chickens compared with him. His hair and beard were both as white
as snow, and each reached more than half-way to his waist. His face was
wrinkled and brown and ebony, a cross between a monkey and a mummy, and
so thin and emaciated were his shrivelled limbs that you would hardly
have given him