"Come aside with me, Me Dain," said Buck, and the whole party moved out of earshot of the inquisitive Chetti, hanging about to hear what passed between the sahibs and his neighbour.
In two minutes Me Dain agreed to go with them. They had no difficulty whatever in enlisting him. Despite his monied leisure and his new house, Me Dain was already bored by the quiet life of his native village, where nothing happened save that a river-steamer selling goods called once a week. He was already longing for the trail and the camp fire, and closed without delay on the good offer Jack made him to act as guide to the region where Mr. Haydon had been surveying Lane & Baumann's concession.
"When we start?" asked Me Dain.
"To-morrow morning," said Jack, and the Burman grinned.
"Then we be very busy at once," he replied, and their preparations for the march were commenced forthwith.
"Can't we manage without coolies?" said Jack, and Buck nodded.
"Best plan," said Jim Dent. "Just the four of us, and a couple of ponies to carry the traps." And so it was decided.
The dawn of the next day saw them afoot and leaving the rest-house. Their baggage was strapped on a couple of Burmese ponies, strong, shapely little beasts, not more than twelve hands high, hardy as wild boars, nimble as cats.
Me Dain marched ahead with the ponies, and the three comrades walked behind. The Burman followed a country road which soon took them through tall palm groves out of sight of the river, and then began to climb upwards. They made a march of four hours, when a halt was called on a lofty ridge, where they sat down in a little clearing to eat and rest.
"That's the country we've got to push through," said Jim Dent, and pointed ahead.