CHAPTER 4A STRANGE CRY AT NIGHT
All night the boat moved up the yellow stream, the oarsmen working with the dogged industry of men who were laboring because they had to do it, and not from choice.
Jai Singh kept them up to their task with an occasional gruff word, and now and then he swung the long staff of his spear over their heads as a hint that he would not permit any “soldiering.”
It was early morning when he said quietly to Nick Carter:
“If the sahib would like, we will stop here. It is time for food and drink, for the coming day.”
“You mean breakfast, eh?” put in Patsy eagerly. “Good idea! You’re all right, Jai.”
Jai Singh glanced at Patsy as if half inclined to call him to account for his familiarity. But he didn’t. He had taken a great liking to Nick Carter’s good-humored se
