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There was no living being to be seen; only the rock-strewn plain and the woods beyond. He called aloud, but nothing answered; he called again the tribe-call of Pango Dooni's men, and a hundred armed men sprang up. "I am a brother-in-blood of Pango Dooni's Son," said he. "Tang-a-Dahit rides for his life to the Bar of Balmud. Ride forth if ye would save him."
At last he found an opening scarce bigger than might let a cat through; but he laboured hard, and at last drew himself out and looked down the path which led into the Bar of Balmud the great natural escarpment of giant rocks and monoliths and medlar trees, where lay Pango Dooni's men. He ran with all his might, and presently he was inside the huge defence.
It was not from a bittern it was a human voice, of whose tribe he knew not Pango Dooni's, Boonda Broke's, the Dakoon's, or the segments of peoples belonging to none of these highway robbers, cattle-stealers, or the men of the jungle, those creatures as wild and secret as the beasts of the bush and more cruel and more furtive.
It was half-way towards noon when the hoof-beats drummed over the Brown Hermit's cave, and they rested not there; but it was noon and no more when they rode through Pango Dooni's gates and into the square where he stood. The tall hillsman dropped to the ground, and Cumner's Son made to do the same. Yet he staggered, and would have fallen, but the hillsman ran an arm around his shoulder.
At last he found an opening scarce bigger than might let a cat through; but he laboured hard, and at last drew himself out and looked down the path which led into the Bar of Balmud the great natural escarpment of giant rocks and monoliths and medlar trees, where lay Pango Dooni's men. He ran with all his might, and presently he was inside the huge defence.
It was not from a bittern it was a human voice, of whose tribe he knew not Pango Dooni's, Boonda Broke's, the Dakoon's, or the segments of peoples belonging to none of these highway robbers, cattle-stealers, or the men of the jungle, those creatures as wild and secret as the beasts of the bush and more cruel and more furtive.
It was half-way towards noon when the hoof-beats drummed over the Brown Hermit's cave, and they rested not there; but it was noon and no more when they rode through Pango Dooni's gates and into the square where he stood. The tall hillsman dropped to the ground, and Cumner's Son made to do the same. Yet he staggered, and would have fallen, but the hillsman ran an arm around his shoulder.
"You would scarce serve a scrap of flesh for one hundred, and we are seven." "The wolves must rend me first," answered the man, and he spat upon the ground at Pango Dooni's feet. A dozen men started forward, but the chief called them back. "You are no coward, but a fool," said he to the horseman.
There was no living being to be seen; only the rock-strewn plain and the woods beyond. He called aloud, but nothing answered; he called again the tribe-call of Pango Dooni's men, and a hundred armed men sprang up. "I am a brother-in-blood of Pango Dooni's Son," said he. "Tang-a-Dahit rides for his life to the Bar of Balmud. Ride forth if ye would save him."
A look of satisfaction came into Pango Dooni's face. "Speak with the man alone," said he, and he drew back. Cumner's Son drew a little to one side with the man, who spoke quickly and low in English. "I have spoken the truth," said he. "I am Cushnan Di" he drew himself up "and once I had a city of my own and five thousand men, but a plague and then a war came, and the Dakoon entered upon my city.
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