The Ghilzie warrior was compelled, by the activity and desperation of Wodrow's attack, to stand more on the defensive than he expected, and his mountain blood waxed hot. Drawing back a pace or two, he hurled three pistols in succession, which he snatched from his girdle, at the head of Wodrow, who adroitly 'dodged' them, and suddenly closing, struck the Ghilzie's tulwar from his hand to the distance of some yards.
The sudden wrench this action occasioned his wrist disconcerted him, and Wodrow's sword having completed the sweep of the stroke, was descending on his head ere he had time to draw the deadly charah which, among other weapons, was stuck in his girdle, when up went the tiny shield, and in saving his head he left his face exposed, and right into it Robert Wodrow planted his clenched hand with such force and fury that the Ghilzie stumbled backward, and in falling was twice run through the body and slain. Choking in blood, his last words were:
'I am gone. Oh, place my feet towards the Keblah.'
Robert Wodrow felt neither pity nor remorse just then, as his blood was boiling in fever-heat, and the Ghilzie had sought his own destruction.
The victor cast a rapid and furtive glance around him, and then hurried on his way. Save the dead man, no other enemy was in sight.
In a little time Wodrow looked back to the place where the Ghilzie lay, and already he could see hovering over the latter in mid-air several great black vultures wheeling in circles prior to swooping down to begin their horrible banquet.
That his disguise had been seen through by this unfortunate fellow greatly disconcerted Robert Wodrow, and deprived him of much of the confidence he had hitherto possessed, and he thought of travelling only by night, and lurking in the woods or among rocks by day; but his ignorance of the country, and the necessity of studying such landmarks as he remembered, and keeping to the beaten path as much as possible, together with the necessity for procuring food at all risks, compelled him to relinquish the idea.
He untwisted another cartridge, and again, with water from a runnel, made some dark dye in a leaf, and carefully rubbing therewith his face, neck, and ears, betook himself to the mountain ridges that overhung Bahar; the latter is only twelve miles from Gundamuck, but so rugged was the way he had to pursue, and so many the detours he had to make to find fords on the streams he had to cross, that evening was drawing on by the time he had passed on the right flank of the village.
He continued his way a few miles beyond it, and then, feeling overcome by profound weariness and prostration after the events and toil of the past day, he lay down among some thick, soft grass a little way apart from the road, and, oblivious of snakes, wild animals, and dew, dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep.
How long he lay thus he knew not, but he was roused by voices and other sounds. Starting up he found a moon of wonderful brilliance shining clearly as if a second day had dawned, and close by him a group of men with laden camels—a group that had halted on finding him prostrate there, in doubt whether he was alive or dead.