then, with a sudden deep breath, she rose.

At the same instant there sounded behind her, high up the hillside among
the pine trees, the piercing scream of a jay.

It startled her, for she had not been listening for it. All her thoughts
had been concentrated upon the man below her. But this distant cry
brought her back, and sharply she turned.

Again came the cry, unmusical, insistent. She glanced nervously around,
but met only the bright eyes of a squirrel on a branch above her.

Again it came, arrogantly this time, almost imperiously. It seemed to
warn her that there was no time for indecision. She felt as though some
mysterious power were drawing her, and, gathering her strength, she
began impetuously to mount the hill that stretched up behind her,
covered with pine trees as far as she could see. It was slippery with
pine needles, and she stumbled a good deal, but she faltered no longer
in her purpose. She had done with indecision.

She had climbed some distance before she heard again the guiding signal.
It sounded away to her right, and she turned aside at once to follow it.
In that instant, glancing downwards through the long, straight stems,
she saw Fletcher far below, just entering the wood. Her heart leapt
wildly at the sight. She almost stopped in her agitation. But the
discordant bird-call sounded yet again, louder and more compelling than
before, and she turned as a needle to a magnet and followed.

The growth of pine trees became denser as she proceeded. It seemed to
close her in and swallow her. But only once again did fear touch her,
and that was when she heard Fletcher's voice, very far away but
unmistakable, calling to her by name.

With infinite relief, still following her unseen guide, at last she
began to descend. The ground sloped sharply downwards, and creeping
undergrowth began to make her progress difficult. She pressed on,
however, and at length, hearing the tinkle of running water, realised
that she was approaching one of the snow-fed mountain streams that went
to swell the sacred waters that flowed by the temple at Farabad.

She plunged downwards eagerly, for she was hot and thirsty, coming out
at last upon the brink of a stream that gurgled over stones between
great masses of undergrowth.

"Will the _mem-sahib_ deign to drink?" a deferential voice asked behind
her.

She looked round sharply to see the old snake-charmer, bent nearly
double with age and humility, meekly offering her