"Yes, before dark," repeated the youth, in a thin scrapy voice.
There was silence again. The track became rougher, the wall of rock on each side steeper. At one spot Frank noticed a number of boulders, large and small, piled on a ledge almost overhanging the track.
"That's rather dangerous," he remarked. "If they fell they would block the road."
"That is what they are there for, effendim," said Ali, turning and flashing a glance at the pile. He explained that expeditions led by Turkish governors had more than once come to grief in these hills. The Kurds knew how to deal with the Osmanli.
A few minutes afterwards Ali came to a sudden halt, and hurriedly bade the other members of the party draw in towards the left, under cover of a projecting spur.
"What is it?" asked Frank.
"Men coming towards us, ten or twelve," replied the man. "We must wait until I can see who they are."
"Have they seen us?"
"Who can say? But I think I stopped before they saw us."
"Why?"