He asked again if there was not a way round, if that circle of mountains had no back door.  Shadrach replied that there was such a back door facing to the north some eight days’ journey away.  Only at this season of the year it could not be reached, since beyond the Mountains of Mur in that direction was a great lake, out of which flowed the river Ebur in two arms that enclosed the whole plain of Fung.  By now this lake would be full, swollen with rains that fell on the hills of Northern Africa, and the space between it and the Mur range nothing but an impassable swamp.

Being still unsatisfied, Orme inquired whether, if we abandoned the camels, we could not then climb the precipice down which the embassy had descended.  To this the answer, which I corroborated, was that if our approach were known and help given to us from above, it might be possible, provided that we threw away the loads.

“Seeing what these loads are, and the purpose for which we have brought them so far, that is out of the question,” said Orme.  “Therefore, tell us at once, Shadrach, how we are to win through the Fung to Mur.”

“In one way only, O son of Orme, should it be the will of God that we do so at all; by keeping ourselves hidden during the daytime and marching at night.  According to their custom at this season, to-morrow, after sunset, the Fung hold their great spring feast in the city of Harmac, and at dawn go up to make sacrifice to their idol.  But after sunset they eat and drink and are merry, and then it is their habit to withdraw their guards, that they may take part in the festival.  For this reason I have timed our march that we should arrive on the night of this feast, which I know by the age of the moon, when, in the darkness, with God’s help, perchance we may slip past Harmac, and at the first light find ourselves in the mouth of the road that runs up to Mur.  Moreover, I will give warning to my people, the Abati, that we are coming, so that they may be at hand to help us if there is need.”

“How?” asked Orme.

“By firing the reeds”—­and he pointed to the dense masses of dead vegetation about—­“as I arranged that I would do before we left Mur many months ago.  The Fung, if they see it, will think only that it is the work of some wandering fisherman.”

Orme shrugged his shoulders, saying: 

“Well, friend Shadrach, you know the place and these people, and I do not, so we must do what you tell us.  But I say at once that if, as I understand, yonder Fung will kill us if they can, to me your plan seems very dangerous.”

“It is dangerous,” he answered, adding with a sneer, “but I thought that you men of England were not cowards.”

“Cowards! you son of a dog!” broke in Higgs in his high voice.  “How dare you talk to us like that?  You see this man here”—­and he pointed to Sergeant Quick, who, tall and upright, stood watching this scene grimly, and understanding most of what passed—­“well, he is the lowest among us—­a servant only” (here the Sergeant saluted), “but I tell you that there is more courage in his little finger than in your whole body, or in that of all the Abati people, so far as I can make out.”