"Good God, man, that silly native yarn——"
"I am a native."
"Still, you can't be such a fool——"
Ayeshi turned in his saddle and looked back at the black, silent mass behind him.
"Who follows Barclay Sahib through the jungle?" he called.
But there was still no answer. They stood there silent and inert, the water rising about their feet. There was no cry of terror from among them now. It was finished.
Those nearest Ayeshi lifted their faces to him in stubborn fatalism.
"Ayeshi, pull yourself together—they'll follow you right enough."
"I dare not," was the desperate answer.
"Afraid—? A coward—? You don't really believe——"