H. Bedford-Jones and W. C. Robertson

“ I rode on with five men, leaving six to bring the camels——”
“Lost four men, eh? Dashed good work you lost no more, Fandi,” said Kilgore.
“That gives us a total force of twenty-one Sikhs. But go ahead—pardon me.”
“We found ten girls with the caravan—fifteen camels in all. We shot every man in the crowd; the girls were all Mongol or Chinese. No one escaped. But we saw no sign of any flocks or herds or villages in the farther valleys. Beyond doubt, the tribe has gone bodily upon some such errand——”
“As the destruction of Sheng Wu and the caravan,” added Day bluntly. ”

“ Both Sir Fandi and I have seen the lake, but we've not explored it.”
“You think he is one man, alone?”
“We think so. We really know very little; but that is the supposition.”
“Very well.” Severn, now quite cool, smiled in his gentle fashion. “I am not a fighter. I am an investigator, an explorer. I will go to the lake and find Esrun——”
“Accepted, but you shan't go alone,” snapped Kilgore. “It's a damnable place; the night mist off the lake is anesthetic in effect, and there are rifts among the rocks that go down to smoke and fire in the earth's heart. ”

“ We have two courses open. We can take the supplies here, load up the camels in the caravan and those behind the temple, and we may get clear away. Or else we may remain. In that case we'll have first to fight the Darkan tribe, then all the Mongols within a hundred miles—and we'll have no hope of succor or aid. Question—fight or run, Sir Fandi?”
“By the sin of the sack of Chitor!” swore the lordly Rajput angrily. “Am I a thief to come and strike in the night, and then run? I stay!” ”