The Colonel sat up eagerly in his chair, then brought his knuckles down smartly on the table. He looked sharply at the three men who sat with him.
“That clinches it,” said he. “One of those fellows was Pango Dooni’s nephew, another was his wife’s brother. It’s the only thing to do—some one must go to Pango Dooni, tell him the truth, ask him to come down and save the place, and sit up there in the Dakoon’s place. He’ll stand by us, and by England.”
No one answered at first. Every face was gloomy. At last a grey-haired captain of artillery spoke his mind in broken sentences:
“Never do—have to ride through a half-dozen sneaking tribes—Pango Dooni, rank robber—steal like a barrack cat—besides, no man could get there. Better stay where we are and fight it out till help comes.”
“Help!” said Cumner bitterly. “We might wait six months before a man-of-war put in. The danger is a matter of hours. A hundred men, and a score of niggers—what would that be against thirty thousand natives?”
“Pango Dooni is as likely to butcher us as the Dakoon,” said McDermot, the captain of artillery. Every man in the garrison had killed at least one of Pango Dooni’s men, and every man of them was known from the Kimar Gate to the Neck of Baroob, where Pango Dooni lived and ruled.
The Colonel was not to be moved. “I’d ride the ninety miles myself, if my place weren’t here—no, don’t think I doubt you, for I know you all! But consider the nest of murderers that’ll be let loose here when the Dakoon dies. Better a strong robber with a strong robber’s honour to perch there in the Palace, than Boonda Broke and his cut-throats—”
“Honour—honour?—Pango Dooni!” broke out McDermot the gunner scornfully.
“I know the man,” said the Governor gruffly; “I know the man, I tell you, and I’d take his word for ten thousand pounds, or a thousand head of cattle. Is there any of you will ride to the Neck of Baroob for me? For one it must be, and no more—we can spare scarce that, God knows!” he added sadly. “The women and children—”
“I will go,” said a voice behind them all; and Cumner’s Son stepped forward. “I will go, if I may ride the big sorrel from the Dakoon’s stud.”