pull at the whisky-bottle and passed it over. 'Now hear me—unless any other man thinks he knows more.'
The challenge was not taken up.
'We go to Shamlegh when the moon rises. There we will fairly divide the kiltas between us. I am content with this new little rifle and all its cartridges.'
'Are the bears only bad on thy holding?' said a mate, sucking at the pipe.
'No; but musk-pods are worth six rupees apiece now, and thy women can have the canvas of the tents and some of the cooking gear. We will do all that at Shamlegh before dawn. Then we all go our ways, remembering that we have never seen or taken service with these Sahibs, who may, indeed, say that we have stolen their baggage.'
'That is well for thee, but what will our Rajah say?'
'Who is to tell him? The Sahibs who cannot speak Pahari, or the Babu who for his own ends gave us money? Will he lead an army against us? What evidence will remain? That we do not need we shall throw on Shamlegh midden, where no man has yet set foot.'
'Who is at Shamlegh this summer?' The place was only a grazing centre of three or four huts.
'The woman of Shamlegh. She has no love for Sahibs, as we know. The others can be pleased with little presents; and there is enough for us all.' He patted the fat sides of the nearest kilta.
'But—but'
'I have said they are not true Sahibs. All their skins and heads were bought in the bazar at Leh. I know the marks. I showed them to ye last March.'
'True. They were all bought skins and heads. Some had
