It would be horrible, he thought; but the next moment his strength of nerve returned, and feeling that the safety of all might depend upon the energy he displayed in his mission, he hurried on towards the fort. As he went along under the shade of the trees, he recalled that which he had seen when on duty a night or two back, and wondered whether there was any cause for suspicion in the boat that he believed he had seen gliding over the dark river in so shadowy a way. Then he remembered the sounds he had heard; and lastly, he recalled various little things in Abdullah's behaviour, that, trifles in themselves, now seemed to be strangely significant. By this time he reached the fort, on entering which he found Sergeant Lund perspiring profusely, as with big clumsy unsuited hands he fingered a pen, and wrote laboriously his report, while Private Sim, who had not declared himself ill for a week, lay back under a tree fast asleep. He was a very unlovely man was Private Sim, especially when asleep, for at this time he opened his mouth very wide, and around it the busy flies were flitting, evidently taking it for the flower of some new kind of orchis or carnivorous plant, and they buzzed about and around it as if enjoying the fun of going as near as they could without quite getting into danger. That it was a fly-trap one big sage-looking insect seemed certain, for he settled on the tip of Private Sim's nose, and seemed to be engaged in making sudden flights and buzzings at young unwary flies as they came near and into danger, driving them away from the yawning cavern just below. Gray smiled to himself as these ideas flashed across his brain, and then he walked up to the sergeant. "Which--which--that--which--or which--but which--in which--for which--to which--phew! this is hot work. I wonder which would be best. Ah! Gray, sit down here a minute, my lad, and tell me what to say. I've been hours over this report." "I am off on special business directly, sergeant," said Gray; "but let me see." He read over the sergeant's report, and then dictated half-a-dozen lines, which that officer wrote down as quickly as he could. "I shall copy it out afterwards," he said, "neat and clean. Go on, my lad, go on." Gray dictated a few more lines, which ended the report in a short, concise manner, and Sergeant Lund's face, which had been all in corrugations, smoothed itself into a satisfied smile. "That's beautiful," he said, looking up at the private admiringly. "I shall copy that all out in a neat hand, and the thing's done. I say, Gray, how do you do it? Here, what takes me hours, only takes you minutes; and while it's hard labour to me to get it into shape, you run it off like string from a ball. Thanky, my lad, thanky. Now what can I do for you?" "I want a bayonet and a revolver, with ammunition, directly," said Gray. "What for?" "Captain's orders, and private," said Gray, showing Captain Smithers' card, with a few lines pencilled thereon.