t God."

Therefore, when they had eaten some food, Ram Lal and Shere Ali
departed, journeying north-east towards Thibet, and Isaacs and I
remained sleeping in the tent until past noon. Then we arose and went
our way, having packed up the little canvas house and the utensils and
the pole into a neat bundle which we carried by turns along the steep
rough paths, until we found the dooly-bearers squatting round the embers
after their mid-day meal. As we journeyed we talked of the events of the
night. It seemed to me that the whole thing might have been managed very
much more simply. Isaacs did things in his own way, however, and, after
all, he generally had a good reason for his actions.

"I think not," he said in reply to my question. "While you were throwing
that ruffian, who would have overmatched me in an instant, Shere Ali and
I disposed of the sowars who ran up at the captain's signal. Shere Ali
says he killed one of them with his hands, and my little knife here
seems to have done some damage." He produced the vicious-looking dagger,
stained above the hilt with dark blood, which he began to scrape off
with a bit of stick.

"My dear fellow," I objected, "I am delighted to have served you, and I
see that since Shere Ali could not be warned of the signal, I was the
only person there who could tackle that Punjabi man; yet I am completely
at a loss to explain why, if Ram Lal can command the forces of nature to
the extent of calling down a thick mist under the cover of which we
might escape, he could not have calmly destroyed the whole band by
lightning, or indigestion, or some simple and efficacious means, so that
we need not have risked our lives in supplementing what he only half
did."

"There are plenty of answers to that question," Isaacs answered. "In the
first place, how do you know that Ram Lal could do anything more than
discover the preconcerted signal and bring down that fog? He pretends to
no supernatural power; he only asserts that he understands the workings
of nature better than you do. How do you know that the fog was his doing
at all? Your excited imagination, developed suddenly by the tussle with
the captain, which undoubtedly sent the blood to your head, made you
think you saw Ram Lal's figure magnified beyond human proportion. If
there had been no mist at all, we should most likely have got away
unhurt all the same. Those fellows would not fight after their leader
was down. Again, I like to let Ram L