When the Shweydagon was lost in the evening mist, and the steamer had made her way slowly down the sluggish stream with the rice-fields on either side, Hayle went aft and took his last look at the land to which he was saying good-bye.

“A quarter of a million if a halfpenny,” he said, “and as soon as they are sold and the money is in my hands, the leaf shall be turned, and my life for the future shall be all respectability.”

PART IV

Two months had elapsed since the mysterious traveller from China had left the lonely frontier station at Nampoung.  In outward appearance it was very much the same as it had been then.  The only difference consisted in the fact that Captain Gregory and his subaltern Dempsey, having finished their period of enforced exile, had returned to Bhamo to join the main body of their regiment.  A Captain Handiman and a subaltern named Grantham had taken their places, and were imitating them inasmuch as they spent the greater portion of their time fishing and complaining of the hardness of their lot.  It was the more unfortunate in their case that they did not get on very well together.  The fact of the matter was Handiman was built on very different lines to Gregory, his predecessor; he gave himself airs, and was fond of asserting his authority.  In consequence the solitary life at the Ford sat heavily upon both men.

One hot afternoon, Grantham, who was a keen sportsman, took his gun, and, accompanied by a wiry little Shan servant, departed into the jungle on shikar thoughts intent.  He was less successful than usual; indeed, he had proceeded fully three miles before he saw anything worth emptying his gun at.  In the jungle the air was as close as a hothouse, and the perspiration ran down his face in streams.

“What an ass I was to come out!” he said angrily to himself.  “This heat is unbearable.”

At that moment a crashing noise reached him from behind.  Turning to discover what occasioned it, he was just in time to see a large boar cross the clearing and disappear into the bamboos on the further side.  Taking his rifle from the little Shan he set off in pursuit.  It was no easy task, for the jungle in that neighbourhood was so dense that it was well nigh impossible to make one’s way through it.  At last, however, they hit upon a dried up nullah, and followed it along, listening as they went to the progress the boar was making among the bamboos on their right.  Presently they sighted him, crossing an open space a couple of hundred yards or so ahead of them.  On the further side he stopped and began to feed.  This was Grantham’s opportunity, and, sighting his rifle, he fired.  The beast dropped like a stone, well hit, just behind the shoulder.  The report, however, had scarcely died away before the little Shan held up his hand to attract Grantham’s attention.

“What is it?” the other inquired.