To Bob this was incomprehensible. Nurla Bai and his man, when last he heard of them, were forty miles and more down-stream. But he had no leisure for guessing: the situation demanded all his thoughts.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"We are going to our homes, sahib," replied the man. "The dogs are too many for us. We did but stop to take a little rest, and kill a few. We cannot go back to the mine: the talk is that the huzur is gone; who will pay us now? We go to our own country, and some day will come back and deal with these children of Shaitan. Not a man of them shall be left alive. But now we can do nothing; it is vain to kick against the goad. If the sahib had more little boxes we might kill them all; but he has none, or he would not be here."
Bob felt himself in a difficulty. He wanted to retain the Pathans; but in their present temper they would not be likely to remain with him if they knew that a huge army was advancing up-stream. On the other hand it would not be fair to withhold that information from them, and bring them back to the mine under false pretences. Reflecting rapidly for a few moments he determined to make a clean breast of it, but to lead up to the important point as diplomatically as he could.
"Have you any food?" he asked.
"Bismillah, sahib, we are empty as bladders. The dogs fell upon us even as we were filling our pots for the morning meal. We have eaten nothing."
"And what will you do for food on the way home? Is it a smiling country? Does millet grow on the rocks? Will you find grapes on thorn bushes?"
"True, sahib," said the man uneasily: "but there are ibex and other clean animals for our guns."
"You have plenty of ammunition then?"
"Enough to shoot beasts for our food."