"Well, then, suppose we follow her now?" and Compton, always ready to act, jumped up.
"What's the good? Remember how she spotted Mr. Hume the day he 'blazed' the trees. Believe she's got eyes in the back of her head. No; but I learnt a trick from a keeper in dear old Surrey that will do what we want."
In the dusk Venning put the trick into effect with the help of his companions. It was simple enough. He drew fine linen threads from a handkerchief, stained them black and stretched them across the track down the gorge at five different intervals, and at the height of a few inches from the ground.
In the morning, at sunrise, the chief's mother was at the cave. Seeing Mr. Hume, she promptly begged a pipe of tobacco, and sitting down, expounded at great length the laws of the clan, together with those which had been passed during the past few days.
"The chief's hut," she said, "will be ready at the round of the moon, and the people look forward to much feasting."
"They had better be preparing to meet Hassan and his wolves, lest they themselves be food for the pot."
She snapped her fingers. "Hassan will die within the gates, and his wolves will perish in the uttermost depths."
"What depths are they?"
She laughed, and, with a glance at Compton, went off down towards the village, bearing on her head a square-shaped package.
"Your book, Compton! Better follow her. Evidently she wants to speak to you alone, Keep her engaged while Venning and I go back on her trail."