minutes later the parade-ground was empty; the green coats of the Goorkhas and the overcoats of the English troops had faded into the darkness, and the cavalry were cantering away in the face of a blinding drizzle.
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What the Goorkhas and the English did will be seen later on. The heavy work lay with the horse, for it had to go far and pick its way clear of habitations. Many of the troopers were natives of that part of the world, ready and anxious to fight against their kin, and some of the officers had made private and unofficial excursions into those hills before. They crossed the Border, found a dried river-bed, cantered up that, walked through a stony gorge, risked crossing a low hill under cover of the darkness, skirted another hill, leaving their hoof-marks deep in some ploughed ground, felt their way along another watercourse, ran over the neck of a spur praying that no one would hear their horses grunting, and so worked on in the rain and the darkness, till they had left Bersund and its crater of hills a little behind them, and to the left, and it was time to swing round. The ascent commanding the back of Bersund was steep, and they halted to draw breath in a broad level valley below the height. That is to say, the men reined up, but the horses, blown as were, refused to halt. There was unchristian language, the worse for being delivered in a whisper, and you heard the saddles squeaking in the darkness as the horses plunged.
The subaltern at the rear of one troop turned in his saddle and said very softly:
"Carter, what the Blessed Heavens you doing at the rear? Bring your men up, man."
There was no answer, till a trooper replied:
"Carter Sahib is forward—not there. There is nothing behind us."
"There is," said the subaltern. "The squadron’s walking on its own tail."
Then the Major in command moved down to the rear, swearing softly and asking for the blood of Lieutenant Halley—the subaltern who had just spoken.
"Look after your rearguard," said the Major. "Some of your infernal thieves have got lost. They're at the head of the squadron, and you're a several kinds of idiot."
"Shall I tell off my men, sir?" said the subaltern sulkily, for he was feeling wet and cold.
"Tell ’em off!" said the Major. "Whip 'em off, by Gad! You're squandering them all over the place. There's a troop behind you now!"
"So I was thinking," said the subaltern calmly. "I have all my men here, sir. Better speak to Carter."
"Carter Sahib sends salaam and wants to know why the squadron is stopping," said a trooper to Lieutenant Halley.
"Where under heaven is Carter?" said the Major.
"Forward, with his troop," was the answer.
"Are we walking in a ring, then, or are we the centre of a blessed brigade?" said the Major.
By this time there was silence all along the column. The horses were still; but, through the drive of the fine rain, men could hear the feet of many horses moving over stony ground.
"We're being stalked," said Lieutenant Halley.
