“You jolly well bet I am!” the Rangar laughed.
King mounted, and Courtenay shook hands; then he went to Rewa Gunga's side and shook hands with him, too.
“Good-by!” called King.
“Good-by and good luck!”
“Forward! March!” King ordered, and the little procession started.
“Oh, men of the 'Hills,' ye look like ghosts--like graveyard ghosts!” jeered Courtenay, as they all filed past him. “Ye look like dead men, going to be judged!”
Nobody answered. They strode behind the horses, with the swift silent strides of men who are going home to the “Hills”; but even they, born in the “Hills”' and knowing them as a wolf-pack knows its hunting-ground, were awed by the gloom of Khyber-mouth ahead. King's voice was the first to break the silence, and he did not speak until Courtenay was out of ear-shot. Then:
“Men of the 'Hills'!” he called. “Kuch dar nahin hai!”
“Nahin hai! Hah!” shouted Ismail. “So speaks a man! Hear that, ye mountain folk! He says, 'There is no such thing as fear!'”
In his place in the lead, King whistled softly to himself; but he drew an automatic pistol from its place beneath his armpit and transferred it to a readier position.