Jack saw them clearly against the bright light outside, and his heart swelled with rage and fierce anger. Not because each man held in his hand his broad and glittering _dah_. Oh, no. That was all in the game, and Jack was willing to give and take in the struggle between man and man, out-numbered as he was. But each man had now drawn out a coil of fine rope and slung it about his left arm. Jack saw that shameful bonds were being prepared once more for his free limbs, and his heart burned with fury. "I'll die fighting before they shall tie me up again," breathed Jack to himself, and he clutched still more tightly the heavy _dah_. Then he drew a short, sharp breath, and held himself ready, every nerve strung up to its highest tension, every muscle braced and ready for action. The Kachins were coming. Already their figures darkened the mouth of the tunnel. CHAPTER XXVI. THE RESOLVE OF BUCK AND JIM. We must now return to Buck and Jim, whom we left in great perplexity at the village festival, wondering what had become of their young leader. At the moment that Jack was dragged into the bushes by the Buddhist monk, who was not really a monk at all, but one of Saya Chone's followers in disguise, and the dancing girl, who was Saya Chone himself, Buck was within a dozen yards of them, looking all about for Jack. But he saw nothing of his young master, because a group of people, also in Saya Chone's pay, covered the movements by which Jack was drugged and carried off by his enemies. "Thunder and mud," growled Buck. "Where's Jack got to? I left him here not five minutes ago, laughing over this picture." At this moment Dent came up. "Where's Jack?" said he quickly. "I don't know, and that's the square-toed truth," replied Buck. "P'raps he's rambled off in a different direction." The two comrades began to move swiftly about in search of their young leader. They kept together, for, with their knowledge of the country, they felt uneasy at once, and were not willing to separate, lest each might not find the other again. They found Me Dain, and set him to hunt in every direction. They found the headman, and he seemed bewildered at the idea that Jack had disappeared. He gave, or seemed to give, them every assistance possible in their search, but within an hour the two comrades were looking at each other very blankly. Jack had gone. There was no sign of him from end to end of the village, but how or where he had gone was a completely impenetrable mystery. Buck and Jim and the Burman gathered in the hut which had been assigned to them, and held a council of war. "Say," muttered Buck uneasily, "this beats the band. What's come to Jack?" Jim Dent shook his head, and made no reply for a moment. "Well, Buck," he said at last, "there's one thing quite certain; he hasn't gone on his own account." "Sure thing," replied Buck.