Only for a yard or two, however; then he pulled up short, amazed to find that it was not far, but near; that it came from the ground, from a leaping fire of tamarisk branches within a stone's throw of him. A step or two more, in fact, showed him a cooking-pot, the remains of some food, a familiar fishing-net, and a chrysalis-looking figure wrapped in a blanket and half-buried in the sand. One of the fisher folk, by all that was lucky! If anyone could tell, they could.
It was only a slender stem of tiger-grass which snapped under his feet, but the noise was sufficient. The sleeper sprang to his like a wild animal, the blanket falling from him, one lithe arm making for the long spear stuck in the sand beside him.
Gu-gu! The missing Gu-gu!
Lance had him back in his sand-bed before hand and spear met. There was no struggle. Gu-gu, knowing himself helpless, lay limp, slack, every muscle proclaiming capitulation; in so far showing himself something less than a wild animal, which struggles till it dies, reckless of odds. But, in truth, Gu-gu, with the certainty of speedy extinction before him, due to that cursed ghost, had given in to fate utterly, all round. Death would come when it came. All that remained, therefore, was to make others suffer if he could. Especially those who were responsible for altering the currents of the river. With one of these on top of you, this was impossible; but time might bring opportunity.
"You devil!" cried Lance, throttling the abject jelly by way of emphasis, "you know all about this business, of course; but now I've found you, you'll have to do mine,--or I'll kill you. Do you understand? Now, which way is the town?"
Gu-gu pointed in the direction whence Lance had come. The latter frowned, realizing that it was impossible to know if the brute spoke truth, but that, unfortunately, he must be trusted.
"Then get up," he said curtly, taking care to keep the jelly within reach of his knife, "and show me the way there. I'll give you a hundred rupees if you do; and if you don't--" He gave the yielding flesh an explanatory prick.
"Does the Huzoor mean the Pool of Immortality?" asked Gu-gu, affably; and the words made Lance remember that fruitless waiting for the water.
"Ah! you did manage that swindle, did you?" he replied savagely, "and of course you were camping out of the way. I see! No! I don't want to go there yet. To the bridge! So quick, march! or swim; you can tell me about the other as we go along. It may be useful."
Another prick with the knife he held in one hand, while his other clutched firmly on Gu-gu's hemp-strung waist-belt of blue beads, started them. So they went on till the sand grew colder, less resistant, changed to water beneath their feet; then Lance's two hands--and the knife--came down on Gu-gu's bare back. "Strike out," he said briefly; "I'll help."