"It's no good," he said. "I can't eat, and I can't rest. It would be different if we knew for certain that the old man was gone; it's the uncertainty that's so wearing. Do you see anything of the Pathans?"
Bob took his field-glass and went to the edge of the track, whence he had a scarcely interrupted view of a mile or more of the valley.
"No, they're not in sight," he said after a minute or two. "Shall we go and meet them?"
"I'm more inclined to go down-stream, on the off-chance that we may find something."
"All right. Better take our rifles, perhaps."
"Why? Nurla has got clean away by this time, whether Uncle is with him or not. You may be sure he wouldn't wait about."
"Well, we'll take our revolvers; it's just as well to have something handy. For all we know he may be resting behind some rock."
"With a rifle! Revolvers wouldn't be much use against that."
"Nor would rifles, now you mention it. He'd pot us before we saw him if he wanted to. All the same, we'll take our revolvers."
They swarmed across by the rope, gained the farther bank, and walked slowly down the track, scanning the rocky recesses as narrowly as before. They had scarcely any hope of finding their uncle's body; but while it remained undiscovered they were ready to search again and again. It was now near midday, and the sun beat fiercely upon them. For a time they were unconscious of the heat in the intentness of their occupation, and the foreboding anxiety that filled their minds; so that they had walked much farther than they supposed when they became alive to the fatigue induced by exertion in such a temperature. Then, wiping their perspiring brows, they sank down to rest on a flattish boulder overhanging the stream.