When they halted to form camp, Mackenzie said:--
"Just now I caught the young Chinky talking to Hamid Gul, and I stopped it. Hamid told me the fellow asked where we were going, and why we didn't look for game. I got up to them in time to prevent the answer."
"They were very natural questions," said Forrester. "We are supposed to be a hunting party."
"Ay, and the Chinkies are supposed to be political refugees, but I have my doubts. I would like well to see the back of them. Have you had any return of that fuzzy feeling, Bob?"
"No. You haven't had it?"
"Not I. What about you, Dick?"
"D'you think it's catching?" Forrester asked with a laugh. "My head's perfectly clear, thanks."
But a couple of hours later, when all three were sitting smoking at the door of the tent, Forrester suddenly stood up, looked round him with an air of perplexity, then took a step in the direction of the spot where the Chinamen were reclining. Mackenzie grasped his coat, and pulled him back into his seat.
"What are ye about, man?" he asked.
For a moment Forrester was silent, then he said:--