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His hands were bound behind his back, a loop of cord was thrown about his neck, and he was in charge of a couple of the Kachin bodyguard. Jack and his father were placed behind this prisoner, and were now allowed to walk side by side. At the next moment the Ruby King and Saya Chone rode forward, and took their places at the head of the procession.
Then, with his own hand, he pulled the cord which should have stripped the net from Jack. "Now the father will give way," thought the half-caste, and strained his ears to catch a sound of yielding from Thomas Haydon. When never a sound was heard, the half-caste played what he thought would be his trump card. He ordered a Kachin to dart down, and cut the gag loose from Jack's mouth.
They now made the rope secure around the outer beam, which, luckily, was fairly sound. The Kachin who was their prisoner was shouting and yelling at the full pitch of his voice to warn his comrades that the fugitives were escaping. His dark eyes snapped and glittered with fury. He cared not what danger he brought upon himself if he could but warn his friends. Jack and Mr.
Jack thought his enemy was disposed of, but the shifty mountaineer had only fallen along the lip of the gulf to dodge the powerful strokes delivered by the English lad. With a swift movement the Kachin rolled under the bar, and then was up like lightning and rushing on Jack, a long dagger, plucked from his girdle, in his hand.
A table was brought for me and the only foreign chair, and Laotseng was shown where to spread my bedding in the temple hall itself. And here I held levées of the townspeople of all shades of colour and variety of feature Chinese, Shan, Burmese, Kachin, and hybrid. The people were very amiable, and I found on all sides the same courtesy and kindliness that Margary describes on his first visit.
The sowars cut branches for us to hold over our shoulders to keep the heat of the afternoon sun off neck and back Birnam woods a deux, and Nampoung fort instead of Macbeth's castle. Nampoung the edge of the Empire! We are now well into the Kachin Highlands, 6000 to 7000 feet above the sea, and the air is delicious. The last part of our ride here was very steep.
He was now driving his heels into the roadway, and, with all the force of the iron muscles packed in his compact body, was trying to force himself and Jack over the brink. Before Jack had mastered his meaning, the pair were head and shoulders clear of the last beam, and the Kachin was working his way outwards and downwards, inch by inch. Jack made a terrific effort and hurled himself backwards.
Two little Kachin women are climbing up these paths, their cattle in front of them; each has a basket on her back, and she spins as she goes now they are followed by a sprightly boy and his sister, the boy straight as a dart, with a sword slung across his back, and his gay red-tasselled satchel on his left side; both have bare feet, and neither of them seem to heed the thorns.
It was held by the leading Kachin, and the second man carried a torch to light his comrade's way. Jack drew aside to the wall, and waited for the man's head to appear. In an instant it came, and the dark face and glittering eyes of the mountaineer were filled with excitement as he saw the white men within arm's length.
The above sketch represents a corner of the market; in the centre a Kachin fairly characteristic but too tall, beside him his sturdy kilted wife, with the usual basket on her back; other figures, a Burmese girl, a Chinese woman, Sikhs, and distant Shan woman.
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