"
"Take some more whisky," I said, very slowly. "What did you and Daniel Dravot
do when the camels could go no farther because of the rough roads that led
into Kafiristan?"
"What did which do? There was a party called Peachey Taliaferro Carnehan that
was with Dravot. Shall I tell you about him? He died out there in the cold.
Slap from the bridge fell old Peachey, turning and twisting in the air like a
penny whirligig that you can sell to the Amir. No; they was two for three
ha'pence, those whirligigs, or I am much mistaken and woful sore... And then
these camels were no use, and Peachey said to Dravot, 'For the Lord's sake
let's get out of this before our heads are chopped off,' and with that they
killed the camels all among the mountains, not having anything in particular
to eat, but first they took off the boxes with the guns and the ammunition,
till two men came along driving four mules. Dravot up and dances in front of
them, singing, 'Sell me four mules.' Says the first man, 'If you are rich
enough to buy, you are rich enough to rob;' but before ever he could put his
hand to his knife, Dravot breaks his neck over his knee, and the other party
runs away. So Carnehan loaded the mules with the rifles that was taken off the
camels, and together we starts forward into those bitter-cold mountaineous
parts, and never a road broader than the back of your hand.
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