We had just taken our posts behind a rock which was close to the mouth, our roomals ready, and two with their swords drawn, when one of the fellows called out, "Ho! Sein! Sein! come down and help us up. Here we are, laden like Pulla-wallas, and thou hast not even a light to show us the way." "Not a word," said I, "as you value your lives. Let them come." "May his mother be defiled!" said the other fellow. "The beast is drunk in his den and does not hear us. I will settle with him for this." I suppose he stumbled and fell, for there was another series of execrations at the Fakeer, the load, and the stones; but in a few moments more they both reached the platform and threw down their bundles, which clanked as they fell. "Where is this drunken rascal!" said one, a tall fellow as big as the one we had killed. "No light for us, and I warrant the brute has either smoked himself dead drunk or is away at the Bhung-khana just when he is wanted." The other sat down, apparently fairly tired and out of breath. "Go inside," said he; "you will find the lamp and cruse of oil behind the wall. I will not stir an inch." The first speaker entered, cursing and abusing the Fakeer. Surfuraz Khan and I rushed on him and despatched him; but the other, hearing the scuffle, cried out and attempted to escape. He was not fated to do so, however; his foot slipped, or he stumbled over one of the bundles he had brought, and fell, and before he could rise had received his death-wound by a cut in the neck from one of the men behind the rock, who darted out upon him. "Enough of this work," said I; "we had better be off; first, however, let us pay one more visit to the hole and get what we can, and do one of you see what is in the bundles." We again entered the hole, and each taking a bundle we got out. Those the fellows had brought only contained cooking-pots and a few cloths, so we left them behind, and made the best of our way to the serai laden with our booty. I have forgotten to tell you, Sahib, how many more proofs we discovered in that cave of the bloody trade of these villains. Many of the bundles were of wearing apparel, and most of them covered with blood; one that I opened was quite saturated, and as the still wet gore stuck to my fingers, I dropped it with mingled disgust and horror. CHAPTER XVIII.