They soon saw why daylight had been needed for the task of escaping from the valley by this road. Their way lay through a narrow pass which ran through a deep cleft of the mountains, a cleft which seemed as though it had been carved out by a blow of a Titanic axe. There was scarcely a yard of the narrow path upon which a step could be taken smoothly and easily. For ages upon ages the forces of nature had been tearing huge boulders and slices of rock from the frowning heights above, and toppling them into this crevice between the mountains. Thus the way was littered with huge stones, over which they climbed, between which they threaded their way, down which they often slid and scrambled as best they could. For some hours they toiled steadily along this wild, rocky gorge, then a halt was called to rest and breathe. The native woman, a lithe, nimble creature, was as little discomposed by the hard, rough march as any of them, although she carried her child, nor would she allow anyone to help her with her burden. Their breathing space was but short. They had halted on a ridge which commanded a big stretch of the country they had crossed. Jack was seated on the ground, with his back to the wall of rock behind them. Suddenly he sprang to his feet. He looked steadily for a moment down the pass, then he said quietly, "We are pursued." Mr. Haydon had stretched himself at full length on the ground to rest. Hearing those words from his son, he leapt also to his feet and looked eagerly in the direction to which Jack's outstretched finger was pointed. Far away a patch of the pass lay in sunlight. For the most part the narrow cleft through the hills lay in gloomy shadow of the precipices which bordered it on either hand, but the climbing sun shot pencils of light here and there into the deep rift. Across one of these sunny patches a line of tiny figures was streaming. Only for a moment were they visible. They crossed the field of light, then vanished into the huddle of rocks which littered the foot of the pass. "Fifteen," said Jack, as the last of them disappeared. Mr. Haydon whistled sharply and nodded. "We've travelled fast, Jack," said he, with a troubled brow, "but these hard-bitten, wiry, little mountaineers have travelled faster. We must put our best foot foremost. It will be fatal to be caught in this narrow gully between the rocks. They will get round us and rush us from all sides at once." "I thought we'd got a much better start than this," said Jack. "So did I," replied his father, "but it has turned out otherwise." Me Dain's words were short but to the point. "Kachins!" he cried. "Come on," and pushed ahead with the woman, who was off like a deer at the first hint of danger. "How far to the end of the pass, Me Dain?" called Mr. Haydon. "Not more than two miles, sahib," replied the Burman. "Good," said Jack, "if we can only clear the pass we may find some means of throwing them off. In the pass they have us tight between the walls."