This, then, was his task: the crossing of a mountain barrier, impassable for waggons and mounted troops—of which his force was composed—the two gates being guarded and held by infantry. Truly, General Rivers had been successful in his object.
Suddenly Hector stirred, sat up, and gazed for a moment vacantly around him; then, springing to his feet, stood rocking dizzily. Slowly the mists cleared from before his eyes, and they lit up; a flame of red appeared in his cheeks: his knees ceased from trembling, and he was awake—with the solution of the problem clear before him.
Taking out his glasses, he carefully scrutinised the distant ridge, each stone of which could be seen through the powerful Zeiss. He noted the figures of men lining the rocks at the sides of the passes, and then lowering the glasses, remained motionless, thinking rapidly.
"Kinley," he called, "Major Kinley."
"That's the first thing," he muttered, "remove him from command of the cavalry"—this position, being next senior to himself, Porky was now occupying, Royle being detailed as umpire, and he in command of the side—"He'll sell me to a certainty if I don't."
"Kinley," he called again, no answer to his first summons being forthcoming, and at length after some minutes' waiting, Kinley having had to be aroused from his slumbers, that person appeared, rubbing his eyes.
"Well, old chap," he said yawning, "bit of a teaser this, eh? Johnson's just told me about it, but never mind, I've got an idea; tell you what it is if you like."
"Thank you, Porky, I should; can't make head or tail of it myself. You ride with me and we'll talk it over together."
"Right-o—glad to escape the dust. But what about the bloomin' regiment? I'm in command, you know."
"Hand it over to Graves, we'll send him on ahead while you and I sit with the guns and watch. Ask him to come here, will you—the rest as well."