Page:Francis Crawford - Mr Isaacs.djvu/286

 The savage old warrior grasped the outstretched hand of the Persian and yelled aloud— "Illallaho-ho-ho-ho!" His throat was as brass.

"La illah ill-allah!" repeated Isaacs in tones as of a hundred clarions, echoing by tree and mountain and river, down the valley.

"Thank God!" I said to Ram Lal.

"Call Him as you please, friend Griggs," answered the pundit.

It was daylight when we reached the tent at the top of the pass.