Then, with a scramble, a jump, and a little swearing in a great
many languages--I think we counted that we spoke twenty-seven between
us--we were on firm soil again, and swinging along over the bit of easy
level path. It would have been out of the question to go in doolies, and
no pony could keep a foothold for five minutes on the uncertain ground.
At last, as we emerged into the bright moonlight on a little platform of
rock at an angle of the path, we paused. Ram Lal, who seemed to know the
way, was in front, and held up his hand to silence us; Isaacs and I
kneeled down and looked over the brink. Some two hundred feet below, on
a broad strip of green bordering the steep cliffs, was picketed a small
body of horse. We could see the men squatting about in their small
compact turbans and their shining accoutrements; the horses tethered at
various distances on the sward, cropping so vigorously that even at that
height we could hear the dull sound as they rhythmically munched the
grass. We could see in the middle of the little camp a man seated on a
rug and wrapped in a heavy garment of some kind, quietly smoking a
common hubble-bubble. Beside him stood another who reflected more
moonlight than the rest, and who was therefore, by his trappings, the
captain of the band.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295