I wondered, too, whither the Kurds had ridden off in such a hurry.

What could be happening to the southward?
Ranjoor Singh had gone due east.
It was not long before Ranjoor Singh rode out of sight in a cloud of dust, disappearing between two low hills that seemed to guard the rim of the hollow we were crossing.

At midday I let the column rest in the cleft between those hills, not troubling to climb and look beyond because the men were turbulent and kept me watchful, and also because I knew well Ranjoor Singh would send back word of any danger ahead.

And so he did.

I was sitting eating my own meal when his messenger came galloping through the gap with a little slip of twisted paper in his teeth.
"Bring them along," said the message.