one of my chair-bearers appeared upon the scene covered with dust and perspiration. Things were beginning to get exciting, and it began to dawn upon me from his pantomime that all was not well. Back down the hill I reluctantly turned,—not altogether, be it admitted, without an uneasy feeling of misgiving,—when he seized me by the arm and pointed down below. I whipped out my glasses, and there, half a mile away, an angry crowd of men, among whom I saw my chair swaying unsteadily to and fro on the very brink of a precipice, were indubitably engaged in fierce altercation. Sticks were being plied, and stones were flying, and I stood wondering what to do when chair-bearer number two came struggling up towards us. With a look of understanding and a muttered word, both men took to their heels and incontinently fled. I seized my only remaining companion by the arm, and after explaining as forcibly as I could by sign and gesture, freely intermingled with good sound English adjuration, that he stood for the material expression of
