“That’s it. We are going to have breakfast a little earlier, and start immediately afterwards. Will that suit you?”
“To a hair!”
The start was duly made, and Lily and Hazel found immense fun in watching the efforts of the two knights of the sabre to secure the privilege of riding beside Nesta, with the result that, as neither would give way, the path, when it began to narrow, became inconveniently crowded. The girl was looking very pretty in a light blouse and habit skirt; her blue eyes dancing with mischievous mirth over the recollection of the wild rush they had made to assist her to mount; and how she, having accorded that privilege to Fleming, the other had promptly taken advantage of it by manoeuvring his steed to the side of hers, thus, for the time being, effectually “riding out” the much disgusted Fleming.
“What’s the real name of this place, Upward?” said Campian, when they were fairly under way.
“Chirria Bach,” said Lily. “We told you before. It was named after you.”
“Not of thee did I humbly crave information, mine angelic Lil. I record the fact more in sorrow than in anger,” he answered.
“It’s called that on the Government maps,” said Upward. “I think it has another name—Kachîn, I believe they call it—don’t they, Bhallu Khan?”
“Ha, Huzoor, Kachîn,” assented the forester, who was riding just behind.
“Is it the whole district, or only just this valley?” went on Campian.
“Only just this valley,” translated Upward, who had put the question to the old Pathân.