"My face scorched, and my hair burned a little, Sahib; that is all."
"Oh, I am so glad, Sree," cried Harry. "You don't—don't—know what we felt last night."
There was a slight impediment in Harry's speech as he caught the old hunter's right hand in both his own, an act imitated by Phra on the instant with the left, while the old man stood now looking proud and happy as he glanced from one to the other.
"Yes, we thought you were dead," said Phra.
"Here, let me go and tell father and the doctor," said Harry.
"No, no, Sahib," said Sree. "I saw Sahib Kenyon an hour ago, and he sent me to you. I have been sitting here till you woke up. He said you would be pleased."
"Pleased!" cried Harry. "There's a stupid word! That doesn't half mean what I feel. But I say, Sree, have you had any breakfast."
"Oh, yes, Sahib; the master gave me plenty."
"Tell us more, then. How did you manage to get here?"
"Oh, I crawled along like a snake, Sahib," said Sree, smiling. "There are many of the enemy about, but I managed to get by without being seen while it was dark; and when the sun rose, I got up and walked along boldly with a spear over my shoulder, just as if I was one of the enemy, till I was opposite to the great gates where the powder is buried. Then I came straight up to the gate, and the sahibs were going to shoot me, for my face was so blackened by the fire and smoke that they did not know me till I spoke. Then I gave them my spear, and climbed over. What does Sahib Harry want me to do next?"