"Nothing nearer than Kot Ghazi and that's a good thirty miles,"
replied Captain Digby-Soames as the aeroplane hovered and slowly sank.

"Let's see all we can and then find the nearest landing-place. Search
all round for any sign of a tent or encampment. There may be a
dak-bungalow somewhere down in the plains, too. The river-bed down on
the right there, marks the border."

Captain Digby-Soames "scoured" earnestly with his glasses.

"Camel on the port-bow, at the foot of the hills," he announced. "What
may be a dak-bungalow several miles away ... a white square dot,
anyhow ... Camel saddled up, kneeling ... His, no doubt. Wonder where
his shikarri is--"

As the aeroplane approached, the disappointed vultures departed,
misliking the size, shape and sounds of the strange fowl. As it passed
over him, and the Major shouted, Dam opened his eyes.

This must be pretty well the end--when he heard the voice of some one
he knew well, and saw a flying-machine just above him. He would see
blocks of ice and cascades of cold water in a moment, doubtless, and
hear Lucille calling.

A flying-machine in Ghazistan! The voice of an old, old friend to whom
he could not, for the moment, give a name ... Why couldn't the
cowardly brutes of vultures begin their business, and end his? What
was that familiar voice calling:--

"Hold on a bit, we'll soon be with you! Don't give up. We can't land