CHAPTER XVII.
OUT OF LUCKNOW.
One hundred yards or so after starting, the disguised fakir and his bear entered a locality teeming with troops, quartered there in order to be close at hand to the batteries, to assist to repel sorties, or to join in attacks. Fortunately the night was very dark, and the exceedingly awkward and unnatural walk of the bear passed unseen. Over and over again they were challenged and shouted to, but the hoarse "Hoo-Hac," which is the cry of the fakirs, and the ring of the iron-bound staff with its clanking rings, on the ground, were a sufficient pass.
Ned guessed, from the fact of their having been met with so close to the fort, that the fakir and his bear would be well-known to the mutineers; and this proved to be the case.
Several of the men addressed him, but he waved his arm, shook his head angrily, and strode on; and as fakirs frequently pretend to be absorbed in thought, and unwilling to converse, the soldiers fell back. Beyond this the streets were deserted. The most populous native quarter lay far away, and few of the inhabitants, save of the lowest classes, cared to be about the streets after nightfall.
The instant that they were in a quiet quarter Dick rose to his feet.
"My goodness," he whispered to Ned, "that all-fours' work is enough to break one's back, Ned."
