which a slight drizzle began tofall, and none knew better than Hussein Khan the perilous effect, ontheir none too safe paths, of slimy moisture. And they direly neededall the start they could obtain.
But the occurrence would equally check the pursuit of their enemies, forthere was no doubt but that they would be pursued, and hotly, at theearliest available moment? No, it would not--that is, not necessarily--for these knew their way, and would take a line which would have theeffect of cutting the fugitives off from Mazaran, did the latter losemuch of the start they had obtained. For to Hussein Khan, practisedmountaineer that he was, this was after all more or less strangecountry, and he was shaping his course only by reckoning.
The small hours passed into daybreak, but with the lightening of theatmosphere there came no light from without. The fugitives were swathedwithin dank, heavy, bewildering mist. They could hardly see each otherat further than a horse's length apart. Helston Varne and the shikariconferred hurriedly together, and in the result decided that there wasnothing for it but to call a halt and wait until chance should enablethem to obtain their bearings.
But chance seemed not inclined to befriend them. An hour had gone--awhole precious hour--and, if anything, the cloud seemed to settle downthicker than ever. There was no wind either, not enough stirring in theair to enable those experienced men to form the slightest idea of thelay of their course, by that not always reliable method of feeling onwhich side of their face the wind stirred. Mervyn had more than begunto feel gloomy--and looked it. Helston Varne was feeling nearly asgloomy, and did not show it. But Melian, looking from one to the other,felt--well, confident. Where Helston Varne was taking a hand there wasno room for failure, had become part of her creed, as we have said.
Another hour went by--two precious hours--eating into the none too widemargin of the start they had attained--and that alarmingly. And then--relief showed in their quickly exchanged glances. The mist had begun toroll away.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
THE VALLEY OF THE MUD-SLIDE.
A puff of damp air came down the slope, driving the vapour before it,and bringing a hard, unpleasant downpour. But this mattered little now.The great thing was to be able to distinguish their way. Girths weretightened, and in a moment they were prepared to resume the march.
Even yet they had to move slowly. The paths, for one thing, wereextremely slippery, for another, the further side of the valley had notbegun to show at all. Then, when it did, and that suddenly, there lay acouple of low, mud-walled villages, below, but not very far from theirway.
Could they pass unseen? It was in the highest degree important thatthey should. But as if to put this hope to flight, several dogs, greatfierce brutes, such as were used by the native herdsmen to protect theirflocks, came rushing forth, yelling and baying with frantic clamour.
Their owners were not long in following. But they stopped suddenly.The sight of Hussein Khan, and Helston, whose disguise made him lookevery inch a sirdar of the Gularzai--in which capacity, by the way,Melian had greatly admired him--allayed their natural suspiciousness.Under such escort these Feringhi could not be interfered with, and theycame no nearer. But the discovery was untoward, if only on account ofinformation these could supply to eventual pursuers.
The villages were left behind, but travelling became perforce slow--deadly slow. The path along the well nigh precipitous slope had becomeso slippery and dangerous, that more than once it was deemed expedientto dismount and proceed on foot. And then, as they rounded the spur infront, an exclamation escaped Hussein Khan and his tone took on a noteof blank dismay.
"Now I see where we have come," he said. "_Hazur_, it was written thatwe should stray from our course in yonder accursed cloud, whichassuredly was the breath of Shaitan himself. Here before us lies theValley of the Mud-slide. And we must cross that, for there is noturning back."
"It is written," was the answer. "Therefore we will cross it, sincethere is no other way."
In front lay the same steep gigantic slope, sheering upward to a greatheight, and along this they were threading, like flies upon a wall. Theother side of this long and narrow gorge was precipitous, being composedof tier upon tier of terraced cliff. And the rain, beating pitilesslydown, lent huge vastness to the serrated crags rearing black against anunbroken murk of sky. In front, right across their way, sweeping downthe slope from the high _kotal_ to its base, spreading like a giganticpeacock's tail, was the result of a former mud-slide. It was as thoughthe whole mountain side had at one time--and that not so very longsince, fallen away, bringing millions of tons of blue grey soil with it.The base of it filled the bottom of the gorge, though a watercourse haddrilled its way through, and the sombre thunder of this they could nowhear, far down between its perpendicular walls of solidified mud.
There was misgiving in the hearts of all three men as they reached theedge of this. Would they be able to cross it. They were familiar withsimilar freaks in the wild mountain country, but this one was ofgigantic proportions. In the regular wet season they might as well tryto cross a quaking morass, but there had been little rain of late, stilleven that little was enough to turn such a place into a slough. Butthere was nothing for it. It was the only way through. The alternativewas to retrace their steps right into the teeth of their enemies. Andone consolation was theirs. Once on the other side they knew where theywere now, and could make up for lost time.
There was no path. Selecting what to his practised eye seemed thefirmer ground, Hussein Khan led the way. Soon the horses werelaboriously dragging their weighted fetlocks out of the stiff, clingingstuff--only to plunge them in deeper with the next step. Then it becamemanifest that the right course was to dismount, and proceed on foot.Helston Varne looked at Melian, so too, did Mervyn.
"I should think Miss Seward could keep the saddle," said the former."She's lighter than we are, and it's infernally laborious going for alady on foot and hampered with skirts."
"Of course she can," came the answer, gustily. "Lord, I'd like to getMr Allah-din Khan over the sights of this rifle. I'd drill hisparchment hide for him. Ya Mahomed! I would."
And then, as if in answer to the invocation, something happened. Thegloomy, Dantesque valley bellowed to the echoes of a resounding roar,the reverberations of two _jezail_ shots behind. The missiles hummedby, rather wide, and sploshed into the ooze of the mud-slide. Everyhead turned.
Coming along the way they had fled, strung out like hounds, were anumber of mounted figures. The dirty white flowing garments, thereckless rush of their advance proclaimed their unmistakable identity.The time lost in the mist, the deflection from the right track, possiblythat Helston Varne had miscalculated the duration of the effects of thedrug which his shikari had deftly inserted into so many hookahs andother things--had handicapped the fugitives--and now here was Allah-dinKhan, and all his cut-throats hot foot behind them, fired, too, withbaffled hate and the disgrace which had been put upon them. The _malik_of the villages they had passed had not only supplied the chief withinformation, but had turned out his own men--and they very willing--toaid in the pursuit. Two of these indeed, had slipped on in advance, andhad discharged their jezails, with the result foregiven.
The bulk of the pursuers were still some way behind. Quickly HelstonVarne's mind had framed a plan, but it, he saw was but a shadow of aone. Once they were through this slough of despond he would send theothers on, and himself remaining behind would take cover on its edge,and deliberately pick off every one of them as they struggled throughthe semi-morass. But even he knew that in view of the state of fieryexaltation to which they were worked up, his chances of success were notgreat. They would rush it somehow, just as his own party had themselvesdone, and--there were too many of them. He sent one look back.
"Hurry on," he urged. "Mount now, and push the horses for all they'reworth. It's our only chance."
And it was done. How--they knew not. Perhaps the animals themselvescaught some of the fever heat excitement of being c
hased, butfloundering, plunging, snorting, they found safe, firm foothold at laston the other side, and stood panting, and streaming, and utterly blown.Here was no safety. It would take half an hour at least before they hadsufficient go in them to resume a race for life, and the pursuers hadtime to cross the mud-slide at their leisure.
Mervyn's heart was filled with black, gloomy despair. It was fated theywere not to escape. Well, at the last it would be soon over. With therecollection of that hellish cavern of torture, and the words spokentherein, he had made up his mind that Melian should not fall into theirhands. They had shown him what they were capable of, and that wasenough. One quick merciful shot for her, and the next for himself, andthat the moment he realised that all hope and chances were gone.
"Now," said Helston Varne. "You press on to the _kotal_, Mervyn. I'mgoing to take cover here and keep them back--and