"Ahmed, spread out the men around the camp," he ordered briskly.
"Instruct them to shoot over the head of any one who approaches; this
the first time. The second time, to kill. Bruce has the right idea;
so let us get busy. Over there, where that boulder is. The ground
will be damp and soft under it, and when we roll it back there will be
no sign of its having been disturbed. I used to cache ammunition that
way. Give me that spade."
It was good to Kathlyn's ears to hear her father talk like this.
At a depth of three feet the basket was lowered, covered and the
boulder rolled into place. After that the colonel stooped and combed
the turf where the boulder had temporarily rested. He showed his
woodcraft there. It would take a keener eye than Umballa possessed to
note any disturbance. The safety of the treasure ultimately, however,
depended upon the loyalty of the keepers under Ahmed. They had been
with the colonel for years; yet . . . The colonel shrugged. He had to
trust them; that was all there was to the matter.
A sentinel came rushing up--one of the keepers.
"Something is stampeding the elephants!" he cried.
Ahmed and the men with him rushed off. In Ahmed's opinion, considering
what lay before them, elephants were more important than colored stones
and yellow metal.
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