“So we started slanting up the hill.  There was something faintly suggestive of a road running obliquely up the face of it, and that we followed.  Some Chins presently came into view up the valley, and I heard some shots.  Then I saw one of the Sepoys was sitting down about thirty yards below us.  He had simply sat down without a word, apparently not wishing to give trouble.  At that I called a halt again; I told Hooker to try another shot, and went back and found the man was hit in the leg.  I took him up, carried him along to put him on the mule—­already pretty well laden with the tent and other things which we had no time to take off.  When I got up to the rest with him, Hooker had his empty Martini in his hand, and was grinning and pointing to a motionless black spot up the valley.  All the rest of the Chins were behind boulders or back round the bend.  ‘Five hundred yards,’ says Hooker, ‘if an inch.  And I’ll swear I hit him in the head.’

“I told him to go and do it again, and with that we went on again.

“Now the hillside kept getting steeper as we pushed on, and the road we were following more and more of a shelf.  At last it was mere cliff above and below us.  ’It’s the best road I have seen yet in Chin Lushai land,’ said I to encourage the men, though I had a fear of what was coming.

“And in a few minutes the way bent round a corner of the cliff.  Then, finis! the ledge came to an end.

“As soon as he grasped the position one of the Derbyshire men fell a-swearing at the trap we had fallen into.  The Sepoys halted quietly.  Hooker grunted and reloaded, and went back to the bend.

“Then two of the Sepoy chaps helped their comrade down and began to unload the mule.

“Now, when I came to look about me, I began to think we had not been so very unfortunate after all.  We were on a shelf perhaps ten yards across it at widest.  Above it the cliff projected so that we could not be shot down upon, and below was an almost sheer precipice of perhaps two or three hundred feet.  Lying down we were invisible to anyone across the ravine.  The only approach was along the ledge, and on that one man was as good as a host.  We were in a natural stronghold, with only one disadvantage, our sole provision against hunger and thirst was one live mule.  Still we were at most eight or nine miles from the main expedition, and no doubt, after a day or so, they would send up after us if we did not return.

“After a day or so ...”

The lieutenant paused.  “Ever been thirsty, Graham?”

“Not that kind,” said the Ethnologist.