CHAPTER VIII
RELIEVED
Well waited is well done.
"Here--hi!"
This time some one heard him, and that small, silent man, Ben Abdi, stood
in the doorway of the tent at attention.
"Are you keeping a good look-out down the valley?" asked Major Agar.
"Ee yess, sar."
"No signs of any one?"
"No, sar."
Agar shut up the diary, which book Ben Abdi had been taught to regard as
strictly official, laid it aside, and passed out of the tent, the little
Goorkha following close upon his heels with a quick intelligent interest
in his every movement which somehow suggested a dusky and faithful little
dog.
For some moments they stood thus on the edge of the small plateau, the
big man in front, the little one behind--alert, with twinkling, beady
eyes. Behind them towered a bleak grey slope of bare rock, like a cliff
set back at a slight angle, so treeless, so smooth was the face of it. In
front the great blue-shadowed valley lay beneath them, stretching away to
the south, until in a distant haze the sharp hills seemed to close in and
cut it short.
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