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they pushed together then released and pushed again. Suddenly the boulder was rocking and Tola Beg pushed hard, pushed with all the strength he had in his old body and with all the strength he had in his mind. Something gave inside of him, something in his back, but he pushed on through the blossoming pain and then the boulder was rolling. It dropped from sight, and Tola Beg could feel its impact further down the mountain, then he heard the roar of other rocks falling with it and the screams of men and horses.
             
    T OHKTA , I BRAHIM , AND B ASRUDDIN turned and threw themselves back into the maelstrom of dust and flying rock that now choked the pass. They had seen little of it, for they had been running for their lives not only from the soldiers but from the landslide that nearly took them as well. It had only been the fast thinking of Ibrahim that had saved them, for as soon as they cleared the pass he had forced the running tribesmen into a corner of the hillside protected from the crashing torrent of rock.
    Now they pushed their way back through the slide, and while Ibrahim mercilessly stripped the dead and wounded soldiers of guns and ammunition, Tohkta and Basruddin poured fire into the oncoming Chinese. Their lines wavered and fell back, the impact of this double ambush overcoming even Chu Shih’s leadership. As soon as the soldiers had taken cover Tohkta and his followers fled back through the pass to where the others had brought up the horses.
    Under a sky dense with cloud they started down the rocky slope. The men were excited by their victory, but Tohkta saw the look on the face of Tola Beg and knew that he was in pain. In the trees far below the pass they waited to see what the Han Chinese soldiers would do.
    Chu Shih was taking no chances. After some time had passed there was activity around the mouth of the pass: a scouting party who had, no doubt, worked their way carefully through the rockfall alert for additional trouble. Then they watched as a squad moved into position on the hillside beside the entrance to the pass and set up a position with a machine gun unlimbered from one of the packhorses. Then, the area totally secure, mounted troops began to file out into the area controlled by the gun. Soon they would be ready to continue the pursuit.
    Tohkta and his men filtered silently back into the trees. They had been very successful, counting many enemy dead or wounded, and Tola Beg was their only casualty. The old man had torn something in his back and could barely ride, being in constant pain.
             
    B Y AFTERNOON they were back up out of the trees and on a vast tilted plateau of snow and barren rock. The trail left by Batai Khan and his party was easily visible. The old warrior was pressing along as quickly as was possible, but Tohkta could tell that they were not far ahead. At the far edge of the plateau, just beyond their sight lay the beginnings of the trail down to the bridge. Remembering that trail and the bridge itself, Tohkta was suddenly frightened. However quickly his grandfather had been able to move the animals, once on the narrow trail their pace would slow to a crawl, and at the head of the bridge the beasts must be carefully managed or they would balk and panic. It might have been better to have turned them out into one of the mountain valleys on this side of the river, but as Tohkta galloped his horse along the path left by the horsemen and animals, he could see that was not the course that the old chieftain had taken.
    Batai Khan was counting on the gorge of the Yurung-kash to protect the village. Since the beginning of time the approach to the bridge had been their village’s greatest defense. The descending trail was exposed in every way, while the trail to the bridge from the side of the village wound between trees and rocks, the cover allowing the tribesmen to pour rifle and arrow fire into any attacker unlucky enough to start down the path.
    Even though