| caption: |
Chapter Sixteen. Into the Blue |
| caption: |
through dense undergrowth, guns at the ready |
| text: |
The sepoys level their rifles ready to fire. I feel in the pocket for my revolver and load both barrels of my gun. Step by step we move through the thicket. You cannot see more than six yards ahead -- the back of the man in front and a few heads of the men farther ahead -- and to the left and to the right nothing but grass, reed, and bushes. A wall impenetrable to the eye, but not so impenetrable, I think, for those famous poisoned arrows. |
