"I hate going back the same way," said Lawrence. "Can't we manage to cut straight down, Bob?"
"Rather risky, don't you think?" replied his brother. "This track goes up and up; there's no path down that I can see, and we don't want to risk our ponies' knees. We could do it on foot."
"Well, look here; we ought to be able to get a good view of the ground between us and the road from that rock yonder. Just hold the ponies, will you, while I go and take a squint?"
He slipped from the saddle, placed the bridle in Bob's hand, and scrambled up the side of a high rock jutting out from the path. As he expected, when he reached the top he found the country beneath clearly mapped out. He could follow the course of the road for some distance in each direction, except where it was hidden by crags and promontories. At the moment the caravan was out of sight. Between him and the road the ground was much broken, showing many narrow seams, and falling away at places into sheer precipices. It was evident that any attempt to descend here on horseback was bound to end in disaster.
As he cast his eye northward, he suddenly became aware of a group of motionless figures about a mile away, between him and the road. Impelled by some instinct of caution, perhaps acquired during his training in the school cadets, he moved stealthily behind a jutting spur of the rock, and examined the group through his field-glass. He counted fourteen hill-men on horseback. There was no movement among them, and their attitude, with their heads towards the road, suggested patient expectation. They were too far away for him to determine accurately the configuration of the ground, but it appeared to him that they were gathered in a slight hollow about a quarter of a mile east of the road. And as he moved his glass over the intervening space, he caught sight of a small building which had hitherto escaped his notice, so like was it in colour to the rocky ground surrounding it. In general shape it reminded him of the little wayside shelters which, called dak bungalows in India, were known beyond the borders as rest-houses. But this building was apparently fallen into disuse. It was roofless, and much of the stonework of the walls was broken away.
THE AMBUSH AT THE REST HOUSE
While Lawrence was still examining the ruins and the group behind, he heard the rapid clatter of a horse's hoofs on the hard rock below. At first he could not see the horseman, who, however, presently emerged into view from behind a shoulder of rock to his right, and discovered himself as a hill-man galloping northward. Having come abreast of the rest-house, he wheeled to the right, quitted the road, and made straight for the hollow in which the group of fourteen was waiting. On joining them, he appeared to give them a message; they closed about him, and after a brief consultation they all dismounted, tethered their horses to some stunted trees at the edge of the hollow, and then moved quickly towards the rest-house. All except one entered the ruins; the one went a little distance from them, and took up a position behind a rock from which presumably he could look up the road. It was as if he was waiting to signal some one's approach.
The observer now shut his glass, clambered down from the rock, and hurried back to his companion.
"Well?" said Bob. "You've been long enough."