Then we started, the ponies, two arranged tandem fashion
to each punt, trotting along a well-made towing path that was furnished
with wooden bridges wherever canals or tributary streams entered the
main river.
"Thank Heaven," said Leo, "we are together again at last! Do you
remember, Horace, that when we entered the land of Kor it was thus, in a
boat? The tale repeats itself."
"I can quite believe it," I answered. "I can believe anything. Leo,
I say that we are but gnats meshed in a web, and yonder Khania is
the spider and Simbri the Shaman guards the net. But tell me all you
remember of what has happened to you, and be quick, for I do not know
how long they may leave us alone."
"Well," he said, "of course I remember our arrival at that Gate after
the lady and the old man had pulled us out of the river, and, Horace,
talking of spiders reminds me of hanging at the end of that string
of yak's hide. Not that I need much reminding, for I am not likely to
forget it. Do you know I cut the rope because I felt that I was going
mad, and wished to die sane. What happened to you? Did you slip?"
"No; I jumped after you. It seemed best to end together, so that we
might begin again together."
"Brave old Horace!" he said affectionately, the tears starting to his
grey eyes.
"Well, never mind all that," I broke in; "you see you were right when
you said that we should get through, and we have.
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