"It is very strange," I said. "Let us look at your beast, Leo."
So we did, and found that its hoofs had been similarly-treated.
"Perhaps it is a native mixture to preserve the horn," suggested Leo.
I thought awhile, then a terrible idea struck me.
"I don't want to frighten you," I said, "but I think that we had better
saddle up and get on."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I believe that villain of a Khan has doctored our horses."
"What for? To make them go lame?"
"No, Leo, to make them leave a strong scent upon dry ground."
He turned pale. "Do you mean--those hounds?"
I nodded. Then wasting no more time in words, we saddled up in frantic
haste. Just as I fastened the last strap of my saddle I thought that a
faint sound reached my ear.
"Listen," I said. Again it came, and now there was no doubt about it. It
was the sound of baying dogs.
"By heaven! the death-hounds," said Leo.
"Yes," I answered quietly enough, for at this crisis my nerves hardened
and all fear left me, "our friend the Khan is out a-hunting. That is why
he laughed."
"What shall we do?" asked Leo. "Leave the horses?"
I looked at the Peak. Its nearest flanks were miles and miles away.
"Time enough to do that when we are forced. We can never reach that
mountain on foot, and after they had run down the horses, they would
hunt us by spoor or gaze.
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