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It was already after ten, and Algy was naturally impatient, and eagerly looking out for our devoted “gara.” He and I were bending forward, listening anxiously; the forest behind us seemed full of stealthy noises, but we strained our ears in vain for the longed-for sound of buffalo hoofs advancing from the front. Nuddoo still slept soundly, and at last Algy, in great exasperation, leant over and shook him roughly.

“Ay,” he muttered, in a sleepy grunt, “it is all right, sahib, the gara will come without fail.”

Even whilst he spoke, we heard, not fifty yards away, the voice of a woman singing in the glade, and Nuddoo now started up erect, and began to tremble violently.

It was light as day, as we beheld Sassi advancing slowly in our direction, singing in a loud clear voice an invocation to Mahadeo the Destroyer!

When she had approached within earshot she halted, and, raising her statuesque face to her namesake the moon, chanted—

“O great lords in the pepul tree, whereto Nuddoo, the drunkard, hath led you,