deep in some ploughed ground, felt their way along another watercourse, ran over the neck of a spur, praying that no one would hear their horses grunting, and so worked on in the rain and the darkness, till they had left Bersund and its crater of hills a little behind them, and to the left, and it was time to swing round.  The ascent commanding the back of Bersund was steep, and they halted to draw breath in a broad level valley below the height.  That is to say, the men reined up, but the horses, blown as they were, refused to halt.  There was unchristian language, the worse for being delivered in a whisper, and you heard the saddles squeaking in the darkness as the horses plunged.

The subaltern at the rear of one troop turned in his saddle and said very softly:—­

’Carter, what the blessed heavens are you doing at the rear?  Bring your men up, man.’

There was no answer, till a trooper replied:—­

‘Carter Sahib is forward—­not there.  There is nothing behind us.’

‘There is,’ said the subaltern.  ’The squadron’s walking on it’s own tail.’

Then the Major in command moved down to the rear swearing softly and asking for the blood of Lieutenant Halley—­the subaltern who had just spoken.

‘Look after your rearguard,’ said the Major.  ’Some of your infernal thieves have got lost.  They’re at the head of the squadron, and you’re a several kinds of idiot.’

‘Shall I tell off my men, sir?’ said the subaltern sulkily, for he was feeling wet and cold.

’Tell ’em off!’ said the Major. ’Whip ’em off, by Gad!  You’re squandering them all over the place.  There’s a troop behind you now!’

‘So I was thinking,’ said the subaltern calmly.  ’I have all my men here, sir.  Better speak to Carter.’

’Carter Sahib sends salaam and wants to know why the regiment is stopping,’ said a trooper to Lieutenant Halley.

‘Where under heaven is Carter?’ said the Major.

‘Forward with his troop,’ was the answer.

’Are we walking in a ring, then, or are we the centre of a blessed brigade?’ said the Major.

By this time there was silence all along the column.  The horses were still; but, through the drive of the fine rain, men could hear the feet of many horses moving over stony ground.

‘We’re being stalked,’ said Lieutenant Halley.

‘They’ve no horses here.  Besides they’d have fired before this,’ said the Major.  ‘It’s—­it’s villagers’ ponies.’

’Then our horses would have neighed and spoilt the attack long ago.  They must have been near us for half an hour,’ said the subaltern.

‘Queer that we can’t smell the horses,’ said the Major, damping his finger and rubbing it on his nose as he sniffed up wind.

‘Well, it’s a bad start,’ said the subaltern, shaking the wet from his overcoat.  ‘What shall we do, sir?’

‘Get on,’ said the Major.  ‘We shall catch it to-night.’