Meanwhile Ranjit Singh, having reached the river and learned from the ferryman that the fugitive had not arrived there, warned the former not to help the murderer across the stream if he came. Then the patrol turned back to Hathipota. There they were informed of Farid Khan's appearance in the village. They at once retraced their steps to the ferry and found that the fugitive had come to it soon after they had left. He had reached it by a jungle path. When the ferryman refused to take him over the river Farid Khan raised his rifle and threatened to shoot him; and the man was forced to take him across. Ranjit Singh and his men at once followed.
No news of this had reached us. Next morning, as soon as there was light enough to show the way, I marched my party off in a south-easterly direction to reach a point from which we could spread out and form the cordon. Marriott accompanied us, and Balderston was now mounted on a good pony lent him by Tyson, who was obliged to remain behind. As the little column swung along in the light of the rising sun, the excitement of the chase was visible in the sepoys. Struck by their silence, unusual when "marching at ease," I turned in the saddle to look at them. Every man's face was set in a grim, stern look; and as they strode on their eyes swept the country around with quick, keen glances as if they expected to see the fugitive every moment. Absorbing as is the chase of wild animals it is nothing to the excitement of a man-hunt. I forgot that we were tracking a human being to his doom, and remembered only that I had the blood of one of my best soldiers to avenge and that I was pursuing a cowardly murderer. I had given orders to all that Farid Khan, if overtaken and seen to be armed, was to be fired at on the spot; for I was determined to give him as little chance as possible to kill anyone else. Had I come upon him myself I would have shot him down without compunction, and regretted only that my bullet saved him from the gallows.
Some miles ahead of us lay a village which contained a police station. I sent Balderston and Marriott galloping on ahead to give warning to the havildar and constables in it, as they might not yet have heard of the crime. The column tramped on in gloomy silence through fairly open country, until we reached the new Raidak River and found our way barred by the swift-flowing stream. However, at this point there was a ferry consisting of a small dug-out canoe. I halted the detachment and was superintending the embarkation of the first batch of men, when higher up on the opposite bank two horsemen appeared. They were Marriott and Balderston. They called out across the water something that I did not hear. But the sepoys farther along on our side of the river did; and a wild burst of cheering from them startled me. They seemed to have gone mad. They threw their puggris in the air and waved their rifles above their heads yelling excitedly. Then a wild rush was made towards me.
"They've caught him, Sahib. Ranjit Singh has caught him," they cried, as they crowded round me. Never in my service had I seen the usually stolid sepoys so moved. Only then did I realise fully their bitter feeling of personal hatred of the treacherous assassin who had slain a comrade, and how keenly they had desired his capture.
Fording the stream the two officers approached me. Balderston waved his helmet, his face aglow with excitement.
"They've got him, major! They've got the brute, thank God!" he cried.
A load seemed lifted off my heart; but a sudden fear gripped me.
"Are the others safe?" I asked. "Anyone shot?"
"No, no. They sprang on him before he could use his rifle," he replied, as his pony scrambled up the bank. Swinging himself out of the saddle he continued: "We met Ranjit Singh on the road bringing him along. They are not far off. They tracked him to a village and overpowered him before he could resist. He had his loaded rifle beside him."
That was the first happy moment I had experienced since the fatal night. The murderer was in our hands; and my poor havildar's death would be avenged.