They started off along the mountainside at a brisk pace, for the early-morning air was still cold, and exercise was a pleasure—to the white men, at all events.
The witch doctor, or priest, led the way. His hands were tied behind him, and some ten or twelve feet of rope was attached to his waist.
Jai Singh held the end of this rope, like a man taking a pig to market, and in the sash worn by Jai Singh was thrust the sacrificial knife. Nick Carter had passed it to him before they started.
Nick himself had his rifle, with his automatic revolver ready to his hand in a pocket. The others were likewise armed—as they had been from the first—and there seemed little chance of the captured priest getting away, even if he had not been so securely bound.
The way seemed to be so easy that Nick was r
