"That's my artfulness, my dear Hal. We can't hope to slip away unnoticed, I grant you. But I do believe we can take 'em by surprise, and walk out before they can combine to stop us. We have the guns, and the hotties, which would be useful in breaking a path, and those two facts may even induce them to let us go without a fuss. Otherwise I should have proposed spiking the guns, which are in a state of rottenness calculated to do more harm to us than to the enemy, and leaving the hotties, taking the women behind us on our horses. But if by making an awe-inspiring impression we can get away without a fight, it's just as well under the circumstances—especially as the Rani has promised us our fill of gore later on. I should say, start as soon as the moon rises, in two hours or so. We can't go at once, because the Rani's hotty and the one we have been using all day will require a little rest, or I should have advised that."
"But Sher Singh will simply follow and attack us on the march, and he has the big battalions."
"Now look here, Hal. You'll allow that I know something of the country through which I came two days ago? Two marches will take us well into Darwan, where Sher Singh don't dare follow us, or he will have the Darwanis up round him like a hive of bees. The place where he will try to stop us is a rough jungly bit about half-way—one of the disputed boundary districts. We must get through it by daylight. Six hours' forced march to-night will bring us nearly to it. We halt for another two hours' rest, and then press on at once. Once through that bit we are practically safe. Marching morning and afternoon we should not reach it till evening, and during the night Sher Singh would have ample time to lay an ambush for us. If we take him by surprise, any thoughtful preparations on his part must be fairly sketchy in character."
"I see your point. But no one can help knowing we are starting at once when they see the tents being struck."
"Then leave 'em standing. You can take your clothes and your papers and your hair-brushes, and sacrifice the rest. Oh, I know you are still dragging about with you the chest of drawers you got for the cabin when we came out, and the long chair you bought at Madeira——"
"Nonsense!" said Gerrard, rather vexed. "But I like my own things about me, I confess."
"The very reason why you should be deprived of 'em! You won't know the proper wilderness spirit till you are. What's a chair? Something to sit on when the ground's dirty or swampy. A table? Something to eat off or write at when there ain't a flat rock handy. Not friends—not pieces of yourself—which is what you make of 'em. Release yourself from this tyranny of material things—as your pater used to quote Socrates or some other old codger as saying. We don't want tents, and the women must do with the howdah."
"All right; have it your own way. We'll start to-night."
"Give your secret orders to that effect to Badan Hazari, then. You'll find that my Darwanis have been already tipped the wink, and the women too, and the fires are being kept low so as not to shed too much light upon our movements."
"I am much honoured in placing myself at the disposal of so far-sighted a commander," said Gerrard, a little stiffly, as he saluted. Charteris laughed, and clapped him on the back with a friendly force no stiffness could survive.