The valley was filled with a thick mist that rose from the river, overspreading everything and saturating our scanty clothing with moisture, causing us to be chilly and uncomfortable. It was this fact, perhaps, that awakened me during the night, when all my companions lying around were snoring soundly, dreaming most probably, of their triumphant entry into the land of the great Naya. Becoming fully awake, I heard the swish of a footstep through the grass, and, raising my head, saw at a little distance from me Omar, standing alone. With his back turned to me he was gazing up at the summit of the rock we had yet to gain, bearing in his hand a fire-brand that had apparently been lit at the dying embers of our fire. The brand, blazing and crackling, threw his lithe figure into relief, and I saw that his face wore an eager, anxious look. His gaze seemed rivetted upon the highest pinnacle of the great rock, as if he had noticed some unusual aspect. During several minutes he remained motionless, his eyes fixed in that direction. At first I was impelled to rise and join him, but not knowing why, I remained there motionless watching. Presently I heard a loud cry of joy escape his lips, and with frantic gesture he waved the fire-brand quickly from left to right, sometimes with a sharp motion, and at others slowly. He was signalling to someone on the brow of the precipice! Open-mouthed I watched the result. The glare of his torch prevented me from distinguishing the crest of the rock distinctly, yet as I looked in the direction he was gazing I presently saw far away on the summit, glittering like a brilliant star, a bright light that seemed in answer to Omar's signals to appear and disappear rapidly, evidently flashing back a reply from the mysterious realm above. Suddenly the distant light became totally obscured, and from Omar's lips there fell an expression of disappointment. His own fire-brand was burning but dimly, therefore, rushing to the embers, he drew another from the fire, blew upon it violently until it flamed, and then recommenced the puzzling signals, the system of which seemed very similar to those used in the British Army. Again and again he repeated the long and short waves of the flaming torch, but no answering light appeared. All was dark upon the towering summit, that loomed up black and lonely against the deep vault of dark, star-lit blue. His was a weird figure, standing in the centre of the circle of uncertain light shed by the flambeau, watching eagerly, and waving his signals with untiring energy. "Fools!" he cried aloud to himself. "They are so fearful of treachery that they feign not to be able to distinguish the name of their ruler."