About ten o'clock, as far as I could judge, when the Moon had just risen above
the lip of the crater, Gunga Dass made a move for his burrow to bring out the
gun-barrels whereby to measure our path. All the other wretched inhabitants
had retired to their lairs long ago. The guardian boat drifted downstream some
hours before, and we were utterly alone by the crow-clump. Gunga Dass, while
carrying the gun-barrels, let slip the piece of paper which was to be our
guide. I stooped down hastily to recover it, and, as I did so, I was aware
that the diabolical Brahmin was aiming a violent blow at the back of my head
with the gun-barrels. It was too late to turn round. I must have received the
blow somewhere on the nape of my neck. A hundred thousand fiery stars danced
before my eyes, and I fell forwards senseless at the edge of, the quicksand.
When I recovered consciousness, the Moon was going down, and I was sensible of
intolerable pain in the back of my head. Gunga Dass had disappeared and my
mouth was full of blood. I lay down again and prayed that I might die without
more ado. Then the unreasoning fury which I had before mentioned, laid hold
upon me, and I staggered inland toward the walls of the crater. It seemed that
some one was calling to me in a whisper--"Sahib! Sahib! Sahib!" exactly as my
bearer used to call me in the morning I fancied that I was delirious until a
handful of sand fell at my feet.
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