Trent's breathing quickened as they approached the walls. The tunnel leading to the gate yawned cavernously. In its gloom the pale eye of a lantern wavered. A mule brayed hideously as they rode into the foul artery. By the faint rays of the lantern Trent saw mules and ponies, packs and bulging saddle-bags; saw Kee Meng's villainous-looking comrades and a gaunt individual whom he imagined was the gateman. Kee Meng pressed him forward between the ill-smelling beasts. Dana Charteris was by his side. They dismounted.
There was a rasping sound and the ponderous gates swung apart. Starlight gleamed upon spiked panels. Framed in the archway were mountains and sky—dark loam smeared upon the firmament. A breath of clean air penetrated into the tunnel.
"Tajen, you and your brother get into the saddles," whispered Kee Meng. "I will tell your men to wait a few minutes before they go back to the inn."
Mule-harness rattled. One of the men uttered a sharp command, and a protesting quadruped moved through the gateway—another behind it. The mules were strung together, led by a man on foot. More jingling of harness; the soft pad-pad of hoofs.
Dana Charteris was trembling as Trent helped her upon her mount. The pony's coat was sleek and moist under his touch. He swung into his own saddle.... The gates closed behind him. A figure that looked like Kee Meng led the girl's pony forward, after the file of mules.
They were again in the clean temple of the open spaces.
... Tali-fang fell away in the rear—a pale blot on the dim shivering mass of the poppy-fields. They skirted a hamlet not far from the city's walls. Dogs snarled; once more doors opened.... The ground sloped ever upward, and from shadowy forests came the healing smell of pines. A buttressed range impended, its peaks virgin with snow—rugged mountains where in places the sides were sheer and rose to shuddersome heights. Toward this mighty chaos of rock—vomit of some earth-ailment—the road plunged.
Thus began the Yolon-noi Pass.
Loose stones rattled under the feet of the animals, and a wind, chilled in the cisterns of the night, swept down the cañon, shaking the scraggly growths and animating the shadows. The pass had narrowed to a mere rift where not more than four men could ride abreast. It seemed a place of shrieking demons when a mule brayed, for the wind snatched up the sound and carried it from boulder to boulder, until it perished in a weird echo upon the serrated ridges.
Just before midnight the moon rose and sent the gloom scurrying, and jackals laughed as though to mock the terrors that a moment ago seemed so real. Moonlight shone on scintillant rock; the loftiest, snow-capped peaks gleamed like palest nacre.... Trent rode beside Dana Charteris. The caravan-men and the pack-animals were ahead, moving with a slow, uneven rhythm, the long line of laden beasts casting distorted shadows upon the road.