"Massing up above me, sir," Dick reported coolly, when the Major crept across to the post he had taken some few minutes later. "I've seen that chief of theirs twice and tried to pot him. But he's artful. He and his men are closer. They'd have been here by now but for the light which shows their positions. The Gurkhas ain't wasting many shots either." In the half-light playing over the defenders it was possible to see the short, sturdy forms of the native soldiers, those hillmen who have fought so often side by side with their white comrades. They lay in a circle, each man behind cover, with magazines crammed in preparation for the moment when the enemy would charge. Slowly and deliberately they were shooting cartridges from their pouches into the breeches of their weapons, and every half-second there was a sharp report, and often enough an answering shriek from the enemy. Ah! Suddenly that tall figure clad in flowing raiment stood erect, while the chief waved a rifle over his head. Instantly a dozen weapons held by the Gurkhas covered him, and Dick himself swung his own rifle to his shoulder. But the figure dropped out of sight promptly, only to appear a minute later some fifteen feet to the right. It was a broad-bladed tulwar which the beams from above them showed him to be waving. A loud shout escaped him, and instantly, as if it were a signal, as undoubtedly it was, the Pathans became silent. Not one drew trigger. Then the clear, ringing voice of the chief was heard once more. "Telling 'em to make ready," said the Major crisply. "Listen! This is what he says. I know their lingo and so can translate. 'Brethren, the hour has come to end this little matter. If we delay, then the infidel will prove too strong for us. Drop, then, your rifles and firearms. Take to your knives, and when I shout once more rush in upon the accursed infidel.'" "Got him!" declared Dick a second later. "Hate shooting a fellow in the open, but then, it's he or us. Eh, sir?" "Quite right! A good shot and a plucky one," cried the Major. "You risked getting a bullet from the enemy. That shot of yours will quieten them for a few moments. But it won't stop the rush. Every man in a tribe such as this is capable of leading his fellows. Yes; watch closely, and you, men," he went on, turning to the Gurkhas, and speaking in their own language, "obey the officer here. The enemy will rush at any moment. As they come, pour volleys into them, then stand shoulder to shoulder and give them the bayonet." A hoarse cheer came from the sturdy Gurkhas, a cheer answered by Hawkins and Hurst and his fellows overhead.