“Not mind, sir?” cried the old soldier gloomily.
“Not you, my man. I grant it is a little dangerous, but not so bad as walking along a shelf in the Nagari pass, with a Belooch behind every stone, taking aim at one with his long matchlock.”
John Manning grinned, took off his hat, and scratched his head.
“You did not complain about the danger then,” continued the colonel.
“No, sir, I didn’t, did I!” said the man, wrinkling up his face a little more; “and I ain’t going to grumble about this neither. I’ll go wherever you lead, colonel, like a soldier should.”
“Yes; I knew that when I chose you to come with us, Manning,” said the colonel quietly. “Well, what about dinner? We had better have it upon that flat-topped stone.”
“I shan’t be five minutes, sir; but I was hesitating about that stone. It’s just in the hot sunshine, and if there are any snakes about here, that seems a likely place.”
“Any snakes about here, Diego?” asked Cyril, and the man shook his head, and replied that it was too cold.
A few minutes later they were enjoying a hearty meal, and the mules were revelling in their freedom from their loads, while the two Indians sat munching their sun-dried strips of meat, and talking together in a low voice.
“All these stones and rocks tumbled down from above, I suppose, sir?” said Cyril, after a prolonged look upward at the peak which rose high above them, with its smooth sides glittering with snow, and a thin, white, gauzy cloud just hiding the extreme point.