I am not sure how much time elapsed before our loads appeared, but it was not very long, and when word was brought that they were coming my husband slipped a small revolver (our only weapon) from our traveling-bag into his pocket. I understood too little of the language to know what message he had received, but he told me that some rough fellows were coming with our party and that there might be trouble, in which case he might need the revolver. He had received a message, while on the way to the inn, that robbers had overtaken our people and were following us. It seems that as soon as we were out of sight a number of men had overtaken our loads and charged one of our mapoos with theft, saying that they had come to reclaim their stolen property. They bound his hands, took possession of our ponies and loads, and followed us to our inn. I peeped out through a crack where the door stood ajar, and saw what was not reassuring, a party of twenty or thirty country fellows, wilder and ruder looking than any I had yet seen, their hair falling in matted locks around their evil faces instead of being fastened in the usual rough top-knot, and their angry eyes fierce and bloodshot. Each carried a short stout club, and they were all shouting in angry tones at once, while our mapoo, his hands bound, my husband, the constable, soldier and helper stood in the midst of this wild throng. The tiny place seemed filled with the men and the hubbub, while the frightened villagers peeped in at the gate or over the wall; our brave chair coolies had hidden away, for which we were later extremely thankful.