"Nobody heliographing, surely!" exclaimed Forrester.
"There's somebody up there, though," cried Jackson. "Don't you see figures moving?"
They halted, and gazing ahead, made out several small moving objects on the skyline. Every now and then there was a flash, reflected from the rays of the declining sun.
"Would you not say that's a tent?" asked Mackenzie presently, when they had moved a little nearer. He indicated an object of conical shape on the skyline.
"A tent it is!" answered Forrester. "And by Jinks! they've seen us! They're mounting horses! They're galloping down!"
The distance was still too great for the forms of the riders to be clearly distinguished, and as a measure of precaution the Englishmen called a general halt, and placed themselves, with those of their followers who had firearms, in the van. They watched the horsemen steadily, and in growing excitement. Pith helmets, the khaki dress, the very manner of their riding, bred conviction.
"The Assam Light Horse!" Jackson declared.
He waved his arms and cheered frantically. His companions took up the cry, and a faint response came from the galloping horsemen.
"There's old Jenkins!" cried Forrester presently, recognising a comrade.
"And McIlwaine!" Mackenzie chimed in.