HIRA SINGH

WHEN INDIA CAME TO FIGHT IN FLANDERS

BY TALBOT MUNDY

Author of

King--of the Khyber Rifles, The Winds of the World, etc. 

ILLUSTRATED BY

J. CLEMENT COLL

PREFACE

I take leave to dedicate this book to Mr. Elmer Davis, through whosefriendly offices I was led to track down the hero of theseadventures and to find the true account of them even better than thedaily paper promised. 

Had Ranjoor Singh and his men been Muhammadans their accomplishmentwould have been sufficiently wonderful. For Sikhs to attempt whatthey carried through, even under such splendid leadership as RanjoorSingh's, was to defy the very nth degree of odds. To have tried totell the tale otherwise than in Hira Singh's own words would havebeen to varnish gold. Amid the echoes of the roar of the guns inFlanders, the world is inclined to overlook India's share in it alland the stout proud loyalty of Indian hearts. May this tribute tothe gallant Indian gentlemen who came to fight our battles serve toremind its readers that they who give their best, and they who take, are one. 

T. M. 

 One hundred Indian troops of the British Army have arrived at Kabul, Afghanistan, after a four months' march from Constantinople. The men were captured in Flanders by the Germans and were sent to Turkey in the hope that, being Mohammedans, they might join the Turks. But they remained loyal to Great Britain and finally escaped, heading for Afghanistan. They now intend to join their regimental depot in India, so it is reported. 

 New York Times, July, 1915

Hira Singh

CHAPTER I

Let a man, an arrow, and an answer each go straight. Each is his ownwitness. God is judge. --EASTERN PROVERB. 

A Sikh who must have stood about six feet without his turban--andonly imagination knows how stately he was with it--loomed out of theviolet mist of an Indian morning and scrutinized me with calm browneyes. His khaki uniform, like two of the medal ribbons on hisbreast, was new, but nothing else about him suggested rawness. Attitude, grayness, dignity, the unstudied strength of hispoliteness, all sang aloud of battles won. Battles with himself theymay have been--but they were won. 

I began remembering ice-polished rocks that the glaciers oncedropped along Maine valleys, when his quiet voice summoned me backto India and the convalescent camp beyond whose outer gate I stood. Two flags on lances formed the gate and the boundary line was mostlyimaginary; but one did not trespass, because at about the pointwhere vision no longer pierced the mist there stood a sentry, andthe grounding of a butt on gravel and now and then a cough announcedothers beyond him again. 

"I have permission, " I said, "to find a certain Risaldar-majorRanjoor Singh, and to ask him questions. "

He smiled. His eyes, betraying nothing but politeness, read the verydepths of mine. 

"Has the sahib credentials?" he asked. So I showed him the permitcovered with signatures that was the one scrap of writing left in mypossession after several searchings. 

"Thank you, " he said gravely. "There were others who had no permits. Will you walk with me through the camp?"

That was new annoyance, for with such a search as I had in mind whatinterest could there be in a camp for convalescent Sikhs? Tentspitched at intervals--a hospital marquee--a row of trees under whichsome of the wounded might sit and dream the day through-these wereall things one could imagine without journeying to India. But therewas nothing to do but accept, and I walked beside him, wishing Icould stride with half his grace. 

"There are no well men here, " he told me. "Even the heavy work aboutthe camp is done by convalescents. "

"Then why are you here?" I asked, not trying to conceal admirationfor his strength and stature. 

"I, too, am not yet quite recovered. "

"From what?" I asked, impudent because I felt desperate. But I drewno fire. 

"I do not know the English name for my complaint, " he said. (But hespoke English better than I, he having mastered it, whereas I wasonly born to its careless use. )

"How long do you expect to remain on the sick list?" I asked, because a woman once told me that the way to make a man talk is toseem to be interested in himself. 

"Who knows?" said he. 

He showed me about the camp, and we came to a stand at last underthe branches of an enormous mango tree. Early though it was, a Sikhnon-commissioned officer was already sitting propped against thetrunk with his bandaged feet stretched out in front of him--apeculiar attitude for a Sikh. 

"That one knows English, " my guide said, nodding. And making me amost profound salaam, he added: "Why not talk with him? I haveduties. I must go. "

The officer turned away, and I paid him the courtesy due from oneman to another. It shall always be a satisfying memory that I raisedmy hat to him and that he saluted me. 

"What is that officer's name?" I asked, and the man on the groundseemed astonished that I did not know. 

"Risaldar-major Ranjoor Singh bahadur!" he said. 

For a second I was possessed by the notion of running after him, until I recalled that he had known my purpose from the first andthat therefore his purpose must have been deliberate. Obviously, Iwould better pursue the opportunity that in his own way He had givenme. 

"What is your name?" I asked the man on the ground. 

"Hira Singh, " he answered, and at that I sat down beside him. For Ihad also heard of Hira Singh. 

He made quite a fuss at first because, he said, the dusty earthbeneath a tree was no place for a sahib. But suddenly he jumped tothe conclusion I must be American, and ceased at once to be troubledabout my dignity. On the other hand, he grew perceptibly lessdistant. Not more friendly, perhaps, but less guarded. 

"You have talked with Sikhs in California?" he asked, and I nodded. 

"Then you have heard lies, sahib. I know the burden of their song. Abad Sikh and a bad Englishman alike resemble rock torn loose. Thegreater the height from which they fall, the deeper they dive intothe mud. Which is the true Sikh, he who marched with us or he whoabuses us? Yet I am told that in America men believe what hiredSikhs write for the German papers. 

"No man hired me, sahib, although one or two have tried. When I cameof age I sought acceptance in the army, and was chosen among many. When my feet are healed I shall return to duty. I am a true Sikh. Ifthe sahib cares to listen, I will tell him truth that has not beenwritten in the papers. "

So, having diagnosed my nationality and need, he proceeded to tellme patiently things that many English are in the dark about, bothbecause of the censorship and because of the prevailing superstitionthat the English resent being told--he stabbing and sweeping at thedust with a broken twig and making little heaps and dents by way ofillustration, --I sitting silent, brushing away the flies. 

Day after day I sought him soon after dawn when they were rolling upthe tent-flaps. I shared the curry and chapatties that a trooperbrought to him at noon, and I fetched water for him to drink fromtime to time. It was dusk each day before I left him, so that, whatwith his patience and my diligence, I have been able to set down thestory as he told it, nearly in his own words. 

But of Risaldar-major Ranjoor Singh bahadur in the flesh, I have nothad another glimpse. I went in search of him the very first evening, only to learn that he had "passed his medical" that afternoon andhad returned at once to active service. 

 * * * * * * *

We Sikhs have a proverb, sahib, that the ruler and the ruled areone. That has many sides to it of which one is this: India havingmany moods and minds, the British are versatile. Not altogetherwise, for who is? When, for instance, did India make an end ofwooing foolishness? Since the British rule India, they may wear herflowers, but they drink her dregs. They may bear her honors, but herblame as well. As the head is to the body, the ruler and the ruledare one. 

Yet, as I understand it, when this great war came there wasdisappointment in some quarters and surprise in others because we, who were known not to be contented, did not rise at once inrebellion. To that the answer is faith finds faith. It is the greatgift of the British that they set faith in the hearts of other men. 

There were dark hours, sahib, before it was made known that therewas war. The censorship shut down on us, and there were a thousandrumors for every one known fact. There had come a sudden swarm ofSikhs from abroad, and of other men--all hirelings--who talked muchabout Germany and a change of masters. There were dark sayings, andarrests by night. Men with whom we talked at dusk had disappeared atdawn. Ranjoor Singh, not yet bahadur but risaldar-major, commandingSquadron D of my regiment, Outram's Own, became very busy in thebazaars; and many a night I followed him, not always with hisknowledge. I intended to protect him, but I also wished to know whatthe doings were. 

There was a woman. Did the sahib ever hear of a plot that had not awoman in it? He went to the woman's house. In hiding, I heard hersneer at him. I heard her mock him. I would have doubted him foreverif I had heard her praise him, but she did not, and I knew him to bea true man. 

Ours is more like the French than the British system; there is moreintercourse between officer and non-commissioned officer and man. But Ranjoor Singh is a silent man, and we of his squadron, though werespected him, knew little of what was in his mind. When there beganto be talk about his knowing German, and about his secrecy, andabout his nights spent at HER place, who could answer? We all knewhe knew German. 

There were printed pamphlets from God-knows-where, and letters fromAmerica, that made pretense at explanations; and there were spieswho whispered. My voice, saying I had listened and seen and that Itrusted, was as a quail's note when the monsoon bursts. None heard. So that in the end I held my tongue. I even began to doubt. 

Then a trooper of ours was murdered in the bazaar, and RanjoorSingh's servant disappeared. Within an hour Ranjoor Singh was gone, too. 

Then came news of war. Then our officers came among us to askwhether we are willing or not to take a hand in this great quarrel. Perhaps in that hour if they had not asked us we might have judgedthat we and they were not one after all. 

But they did ask, and let a man, an arrow, and an answer each gostraight, say we. Our Guru tells us Sikhs should fight ever on theside of the oppressed; the weaker the oppressed, the more the reasonfor our taking part with them. Our officers made no secret about thestrength of the enemy, and we made none with them of our feeling inthe matter. They were proud men that day. Colonel Kirby was a veryproud man. We were prouder than he, except when we thought ofRanjoor Singh. 

Then, as it were out of the night itself, there came a message byword of mouth from Ranjoor Singh saying he will be with us beforethe blood shall run. We were overjoyed at that, and talked about itfar into the night; yet when dawn had come doubt again had hold ofus, and I think I was the only Sikh in the regiment ready to swearto his integrity. Once, at least a squadron of us had loved him tothe death because we thought him an example of Sikh honor. Now onlyI and our British officers believed in him. 

We are light cavalry. We were first of all the Indian regiments toride out of Delhi and entrain at a station down the line. That wasan honor, and the other squadrons rode gaily, but D Squadron hungits head. I heard men muttering in the ranks and some I rebuked tosilence, but my rebukes lightened no man's heart. In place ofRanjoor Singh rode Captain Fellowes, promoted from another squadron, and noticing our lack of spirit, he did his best to inspire us withfine words and manly bearing; but we felt ashamed that our own Sikhmajor was not leading us, and did not respond to encouragement. 

Yet when we rode out of Delhi Gate it was as if a miracle tookplace. A stiffening passed along the squadron. A trooper caughtsight of Ranjoor Singh standing beside some bullock carts, andpassed the word. I, too, saw him. He was with a Muhammadan bunnia, and was dressed to resemble one himself. 

The trooper who was first to see him--a sharp-eyed man--he died atYpres--Singh means lion, sahib--now recognized the man who stoodwith him. "That bunnia, " said he, "is surely none other than theEuropean who gave us the newspaper clippings about Sikhs not allowedto land in Canada. See--he is disguised like a fool. Are the policeasleep, " said he, "that such thieves dare sun themselves?"

It was true enough, sahib. The man in disguise was German, and weremembered again that Ranjoor Singh knew German. From that moment werode like new men--I, too, although I because I trusted RanjoorSingh now more than ever; they, because they trusted no longer atall, and he can shoulder what seem certainties whom doubt unmans. Noword, but a thought that a man could feel passed all down the line, that whatever our officer might descend to being, the rank and filewould prove themselves faithful to the salt. Thenceforward there wasnothing in our bearing to cause our officers anxiety. 

You might wonder, sahib, why none broke ranks to expose both men onthe spot. I did not because I trusted Ranjoor Singh. I reasoned hewould never have dared be seen by us if he truly were a traitor. Itseemed to me I knew how his heart must burn to be riding with us. They did not because they would not willingly have borne the shame. I tell no secret when I say there has been treason in the Punjab;the whole world knows that. Yet few understand that the cloak underwhich it all made headway was the pride of us true ones, who wouldnot own to treason in our midst. Pride and the shadow of shame areone, sahib, but who believes it until the shame bears fruit?

Before the last squadron had ridden by, Captain Warrington, ouradjutant, also caught sight of Ranjoor Singh. He spurred afterColonel Kirby, and Colonel Kirby came galloping back; but before hecould reach Delhi Gate Ranjoor Singh had disappeared and D Squadronwas glad to the last man. 

"Let us hope he may die like a rat in a hole and bring no more shameon us!" said Gooja Singh, and many assented. 

"He said he will be with us before the blood shall run!" said I. 

"Then we know whose blood shall run first!" said the trooper nearestme, and those who heard him laughed. So I held my tongue. There isno need of argument while a man yet lives to prove himself. I hadcharge of the party that burned that trooper's body. He was one ofthe first to fall after we reached France. 

Colonel Kirby, looking none too pleased, came trotting back to us, and we rode on. And we entrained. Later on we boarded a great shipin Bombay harbor and put to sea, most of us thinking by that time offamilies and children, and some no doubt of money-lenders who mightforeclose on property in our absence, none yet suspecting that thegovernment will take steps to prevent that. It is not only theBritish officer, sahib, who borrows money at high interest lest hisshabbiness shame the regiment. 

We were at sea almost before the horses were stalled properly, andpresently there were officers and men and horses all sick togetherin the belly of the ship, with chests and bales and barrels brokenloose among us. The this-and-that-way motion of the ship causedhorses to fall down, and men were too sick to help them up again. Imyself lay amid dung like a dead man--yet vomiting as no dead manever did--and saw British officers as sick as I laboring liketroopers. There are more reasons than one why we Sikhs respect ourBritish officers. 

The coverings of the ship were shut tight, lest the waves descendamong us. The stench became worse than any I had ever known, although I learned to know a worse one later; but I will speak ofthat at the proper time. It seemed to us like a poor beginning andthat thought put little heart in us. 

But the sickness began to lessen after certain days, and as themovements grew easier the horses were able to stand. Then we becamehungry, who had thought we would never wish to eat again, and doublerations were served out to compensate for days when we had eatennothing. Then a few men sought the air, and others--I among them--wentout of curiosity to see why the first did not return. So, firstby dozens and then by hundreds, we went and stood full of wonder, holding to the bulwark for the sake of steadiness. 

It may be, sahib, that if I had the tongue of a woman and of apriest and of an advocate--three tongues in one--I might then tellthe half of what there was to wonder at on that long journey. Surelynot otherwise. Being a soldier, well trained in all subjectsbecoming to a horseman but slow of speech, I can not tell thehundredth part. 

We--who had thought ourselves alone in all the sea--were but oneship among a number. The ships proceeded after this manner--see, Idraw a pattern--with foam boiling about each. Ahead of us were manyships bearing British troops--cavalry, infantry and guns. To ourright and left and behind us were Sikh, Gurkha, Dogra, Pathan, Punjabi, Rajput--many, many men, on many ships. Two and thirty shipsI counted at one time, and there was the smoke of others over thesky-line!

Above the bulwark of each ship, all the way along it, thus, was aline of khaki. Ahead of us that was helmets. To our right and leftand behind us it was turbans. The men of each ship wondered at allthe others. And most of all, I think, we wondered at the great graywar-ships plunging in the distance; for none knew whence they hadcome; we saw none in Bombay when we started. It was not a sight forthe tongue to explain, sahib, but for a man to carry in his heart. Asight never to be forgotten. I heard no more talk about a poorbeginning. 

We came to Aden, and stopped to take on coal and water. There was nosign of excitement there, yet no good news. It was put in Orders ofthe Day that the Allies are doing as well as can be expected pendingarrival of re-enforcements; and that is not the way winners speak. Later, when we had left Aden behind, our officers came down among usand confessed that all did not go well. We said brave things toencourage them, for it is not good that one's officers should doubt. If a rider doubts his horse, what faith shall the horse have in hisrider? And so it is with a regiment and its officers. 

After some days we reached a narrow sea--the Red Sea, men call it, although God knows why--a place full of heat and sand-storms, shutin on either hand by barren hills. There was no green thing anywhere. There we passed islands where men ran down to the beach toshout and wave helmets--unshaven Englishmen, who trim the lights. Itmust have been their first intimation of any war. How else can theyhave known of it? We roared back to them, all of the men on all ofthe ships together, until the Red Sea was the home of thunder, andour ships' whistles screamed them official greeting through the din. I spent many hours wondering what those men's thoughts might be. 

Never was such a sight, sahib! Behind our ships was darkness, forthe wind was from the north and the funnels belched forth smoke thattrailed and spread. I watched it with fascination until one dayGooja Singh came and watched beside me near the stern. His rank wasthe same as mine, although I was more than a year his senior. Therewas never too much love between us. Step by step I earned promotionfirst, and he was jealous. But on the face of thing's we werefriends. Said he to me after a long time of gazing at the smoke, "Ithink there is a curtain drawn. We shall never return by that road!"

I laughed at him. "Look ahead!" said I. "Let us leave our rear tothe sweepers and the crows!"

Nevertheless, what he had said remained in my mind, as the way ofdark sayings is. Yet why should the word of a fool have the weightof truth? There are things none can explain. He proved right in theend, but gained nothing. Behold me; and where is Gooja Singh? I madeno prophecy, and he did. Can the sahib explain?

Day after day we kept overtaking other ships, most of them hurryingthe same way as ourselves. Not all were British, but the crews allcheered us, and we answered, the air above our heads alive withwaving arms and our trumpets going as if we rode to the king ofEngland's wedding. If their hearts burned as ours did, the crews ofthose ships were given something worth remembering. 

We passed one British ship quite close, whose captain was an elderlyman with a gray beard. He so waved his helmet that it slipped fromhis grasp and went spinning into the sea. When we lost him in oursmoke his crew of Chinese were lowering a boat to recover thehelmet. We heard the ships behind us roaring to him. Strange that Ishould wonder to this day whether those Chinese recovered thehelmet! It looked like a good new one. I have wondered about it onthe eve of action, and in the trenches, and in the snow on outpostduty. I wonder about it now. Can the sahib tell me why an old man'shelmet should be a memory, when so much that was matter of life anddeath has gone from mind? I see that old man and his helmet now, yetI forget the feel of Flanders mud. 

We reached Suez, and anchored there. At Suez lay many ships in frontof us, and a great gray battle-ship saluted us with guns, we allstanding to attention while our ensigns dipped. I thought it strangethat the battle-ship should salute us first, until I recalled howwhen I was a little fellow I once saw a viceroy salute mygrandfather. My grandfather was one of those Sikhs who marched tohelp the British on the Ridge at Delhi when the British cause seemedlost. The British have long memories for such things. 

Later there came an officer from the battle-ship and there was hotargument on our upper bridge. The captain of our ship grew veryangry, but the officer from the battle-ship remained polite, andpresently he took away with him certain of our stokers. The captainof our ship shouted after him that there were only weaklings anddevil's leavings left, but later we discovered that was not true. 

We fretted at delay at Suez. Ships may only enter the canal one byone, and while we waited some Arabs found their way on board from asmall boat, pretending to sell fruit and trinkets. They assured usthat the French and British were already badly beaten, and thatBelgium had ceased to be. To test them, we asked where Belgium was, and they did not know; but they swore it had ceased to be. Theyadvised us to mutiny and refuse to go on to our destruction. 

They ought to have been arrested, but we were enraged and drove themfrom the ship with blows. We upset their little boat by hauling atthe rope with which they had made it fast, and they were forced toswim for shore. One of them was taken by a shark, which weconsidered an excellent omen, and the others were captured as theyswam and taken ashore in custody. 

I think others must have visited the other ships with similar talesto tell, because after that, sahib, there was something such as Ithink the world never saw before that day. In that great fleet ofships we were men of many creeds and tongues--Sikh, Muhammadan, Dorga, Gurkha (the Dogra and Gurkha be both Hindu, though ofdifferent kinds), Jat, Punjabi, Rajput, Guzerati, Pathan, Mahratta--whocan recall how many! No one language could have sufficed toexplain one thought to all of us--no, nor yet ten languages! No wordpassed that my ear caught. Yet, ship after ship became aware ofcloser unity. 

All on our knees on all the ships together we prayed thereafterthrice a day, our British officers standing bareheaded beneath theupper awnings, the chin-strap marks showing very plainly on theircheeks as the way of the British is when they feel emotion. Weprayed, sahib, lest the war be over before we could come and do ourshare. I think there was no fear in all that fleet except the fearlest we come too late. A man might say with truth that we prayed tomore gods than one, but our prayer was one. And we received oneanswer. 

One morning our ship got up anchor unexpectedly and began to enterthe canal ahead of all the ships bearing Indian troops. The men onthe other ships bayed to us like packs of wolves, in part to giveencouragement but principally jealous. We began to expect to seeFrance now at any minute--I, who can draw a map of the world and setthe chief cities in the proper place, being as foolish as the rest. There lay work as well as distance between us and France. 

We began to pass men laboring to make the canal banks ready againstattack, but mostly they had no news to give us. Yet at one place, where we tied to the bank because of delay ahead, a man shouted froma sand-dune that the kaiser of Germany has turned Muhammadan and nowsummons all Islam to destroy the French and British. Doubtless hemistook us for Muhammadans, being neither the first nor the last tomake that mistake. 

So we answered him we were on our way to Berlin to teach the kaiserhis new creed. One man threw a lump of coal at him and hedisappeared, but presently we heard him shouting to the men on theship behind. They truly were Muhammadans, but they jeered at him asloud as we. 

After that our officers set us to leading horses up and down thedeck in relays, partly, no doubt, to keep us from talking with othermen on shore, but also for the horses' sake. I remember how fliescame on board and troubled the horses very much. At sea we hadforgotten there were such things as flies, and they left us againwhen we left the canal. 

At Port Said, which looks like a mean place, we stopped again forcoal. Naked Egyptians--big black men, as tall as I and asstraight--carried it up an inclined plank from a float and cast it bybasketfuls through openings in the ship's side. We made up a purseof money for them, both officers and men contributing, and I wastold there was a coaling record broken. 

After that we steamed at great speed along another sea, one ship ata time, just as we left the canal, our ship leading all those thatbore Indian troops. And now there were other war-ships--little ones, each of many funnels--low in the water, yet high at the nose--mostswift, that guarded us on every hand, coming and going as the sharksdo when they search the seas for food. 

A wonder of a sight, sahib! Blue water--blue water--bluest ever Isaw, who have seen lake water in the Hills! And all the shipsbelching black smoke, and throwing up pure white foam--and the lastship so far behind that only masts and smoke were visible above thesky-line--but more, we knew, behind that again, and yet more coming!I watched for hours at a stretch without weariness, and thoughtagain of Ranjoor Singh. Surely, thought I, his three campaignsentitled him to this. Surely he was a better man than I. Yet herewas I, and no man knew where he was. But when I spoke of RanjoorSingh men spat, so I said nothing. 

After a time I begged leave to descend an iron ladder to the bowelsof the ship, and I sat on the lowest rung watching the Britishfiremen at the furnaces. They cursed me in the name of God, theirteeth and the whites of their eyes gleaming, but their skin black asnight with coal dust. The sweat ran down in rivers between ridges ofgrime on the skin of their naked bellies. When a bell rang and thefire doors opened they glowed like pictures I have seen of devils. They were shadows when the doors clanged shut again. Consideringthem, I judged that they and we were one. 

I climbed on deck again and spoke to a risaldar. He spoke to ColonelKirby. Watching from below, I saw Colonel Kirby nod--thus, like abird that takes an insect; and he went and spoke to the captain ofthe ship. Presently there was consultation, and a call forvolunteers. The whole regiment responded. None, however, gave mecredit for the thought. I think that risaldar accepted praise forit, but I have had no opportunity to ask him. He died in Flanders. 

We went down and carried coal as ants that build a hill, piling iton the iron floor faster than the stokers could use it, toilingnearly naked like them lest we spoil our uniforms. We grew grimy, but the ship shook, and the water boiled behind us. None of theother ships was able to overtake us, although we doubted not theyall tried. 

There grew great good will between us and the stokers. We wereclumsy from inexperience, and they full of laughter at us, but eachjudged the spirit with which the other labored. Once, where I stooddirecting near the bunker door, two men fell on me and covered mewith coal. The stokers laughed and I was angry. I had hot wordsready on my tongue, but a risaldar prevented me. 

"This is their trade, not ours, " said he. "Look to it lest any laughat us when the time for our own trade comes!" I judged that wellspoken, and remembered it. 

There came at last a morning when the sun shone through jeweledmist--a morning with scent in it that set the horses in the hold tosnorting--a dawn that smiled, as if the whole universe in truth wereGod's. A dawn, sahib, such as a man remembers to judge other dawnsby. That day we came in sight of France. 

Doubtless you suppose we cheered when we saw Marseilles at last. YetI swear to you we were silent. We were disappointed because we couldsee no enemy and hear no firing of great guns! We made no morecommotion than the dead while our ship steamed down the long harborentrance, and was pushed and pulled by little tugs round a corner toa wharf. A French war-ship and some guns in a fort saluted us, andour ship answered; but on shore there seemed no excitement and ourhearts sank. We thought that for all our praying we had come toolate. 

But the instant they raised the gangway a French officer and severalBritish officers came running up it, and they all talked earnestlywith Colonel Kirby on the upper bridge--we watching as if we had butan eye and an ear between us. Presently all our officers weresummoned and told the news, and without one word being said to anyof us we knew there was neither peace as yet, nor any surpassingvictory fallen to our side. So then instantly we all began to speakat once, even as apes do when sudden fear has passed. 

There were whole trains of trucks drawn up in the street beside thedock and we imagined we were to be hurried at once toward thefighting. But not so, for the horses needed rest and exercise andproper food before they could be fit to carry us. Moreover, therewere stores to be offloaded from the ships, we having brought withus many things that it would not be so easy to replace in a land atwar. Whatever our desire, we were forced to wait, and when we hadleft the ship we were marched through the streets to a camp somelittle distance out along the Estagus Road. Later in the day, andthe next day, and the next, infantry from the other ships followedus, for they, too, had to wait for their stores to be offloaded. 

The French seemed surprised to see us. They were women and childrenfor the most part, for the grown men had been called up. In ourcountry we greet friends with flowers, but we had been led tobelieve that Europe thinks little of such manners. Yet the Frenchthrew flowers to us, the little children bringing arms full andbaskets full. 

Thenceforward, day after day, we rode at exercise, keeping ears andeyes open, and marveling at France. No man complained, although ourvery bones ached to be on active service. And no man spoke ofRanjoor Singh, who should have led D Squadron. Yet I believe therewas not one man in all D Squadron but thought of Ranjoor Singh allthe time. He who has honor most at heart speaks least about it. Inone way shame on Ranjoor Singh's account was a good thing, for itmade the whole regiment watchful against treachery. 

Treachery, sahib--we had yet to learn what treachery could be!Marseilles is a half-breed of a place, part Italian, part French. The work was being chiefly done by the Italians, now that allable-bodied Frenchmen were under arms. And Italy not yet in the war!

Sahib, I swear to you that all the spies in all the world seemed atthat moment to be Italian, and all in Marseilles at once! There werespies among the men who brought our stores. Spies who brought thehay. Spies among the women who walked now and then through our linesto admire, accompanied by officers who were none too wide-awake ifthey were honest. You would not believe how many pamphlets reachedus, printed in our tongue and some of them worded very cunningly. 

There were men who could talk Hindustanee who whispered to us tosurrender to the Germans at the first opportunity, promising in thatcase that we shall be well treated. The German kaiser, these menassured us, had truly turned Muhammadan; as if that were anything toSikhs, unless perhaps an additional notch against him! I was toldthey mistook the Muhammadans in another camp for Sikhs, and werespat on for their pains!

Nor were all the spies Italians, after all. Our hearts went out tothe French. We were glad to be on their side--glad to help themdefend their country. I shall be glad to my dying day that I havestruck a blow for France. Yet the only really dangerous man of allwho tried to corrupt us in Marseilles was a French officer of therank of major, who could speak our tongue as well as I. He said withsorrow that the French were already as good as vanquished, and thathe pitied us as lambs sent to the slaughter. The part, said he, ofevery wise man was to go over to the enemy before the day shouldcome for paying penalties. 

I told what he had said to me to a risaldar, and the risaldar spokewith Colonel Kirby. We heard--although I do not know whether it istrue or not--that the major was shot that evening with his face to awall. I do know that I, in company with several troopers, wascross-examined by interpreters that day in presence of Colonel Kirby and aFrench general and some of the general's staff. 

There began to be talk at last about Ranjoor Singh. I heard men sayit was no great wonder, after all, that he should have turnedtraitor, for it was plain he must have been tempted cunningly. Yetthere was no forgiveness for him. They grew proud that where he hadfailed they could stand firm; and there is no mercy in proud men'sminds--nor much wisdom either. 

At last a day came--too soon for the horses, but none too soon forus--when we marched through the streets to entrain for the front. Aswe had marched first out of Delhi, so we marched first fromMarseilles now. Only the British regiments from India were on aheadof us; we led the Indian-born contingent. 

French wives and children, and some cripples, lined the streets tocheer and wave their handkerchiefs. We were on our way to help theirhusbands defend France, and they honored us. It was our due. But canthe sahib accept his due with a dry eye and a word in his throat?Nay! It is only ingratitude that a man can swallow unconcerned. Noman spoke. We rode like graven images, and I think the French womenwondered at our silence. I know that I, for one, felt extremelywilling to die for France; and I thought of Ranjoor Singh and of howhis heart, too, would have burned if he had been with us. With suchthoughts as swelled in my own breast, it was not in me to believehim false, whatever the rest might think. 

D Squadron proved in good fortune that day, for they gave us a trainof passenger coaches with seats, and our officers had a first-classcoach in front. The other squadrons, and most of the otherregiments, had to travel in open trucks, although I do not think anygrumbled on that score. There was a French staff officer to eachtrain, and he who rode in our train had an orderly who knew English;the orderly climbed in beside me and we rode miles together, talkingall the time, he surprising me vastly more than I him. We exchangedinformation as two boys that play a game--I a move, then he a move, then I again, then he. 

The game was at an end when neither could think of another questionto ask; but he learned more than I. At the end I did not yet knowwhat his religion was, but he knew a great deal about mine. On theother hand, he told me all about their army and its closeassociation between officers and men, and all the news he had aboutthe fighting (which was not so very much), and what he thought ofthe British. He seemed to think very highly of the British, ratherto his own surprise. 

He told me he was a pastry cook by trade, and said he could cookchapatties such as we eat; and he understood my explanation whySikhs were riding in the front trains and Muhammadans behind--becauseMuhammadans must pray at fixed intervals and the trains muststop to let them do it. He understood wherein our Sikh prayerdiffers from that of Islam. Yet he refused to believe I am nopolygamist. But that is nothing. Since then I have fought in atrench beside Englishmen who spoke of me as a savage; and I haveseen wounded Germans writhe and scream because their officers hadtold them we Sikhs would eat them alive. Yes, sahib; not once, butmany times. 

The journey was slow, for the line ahead of us was choked withsupply trains, some of which were needed at the front as badly asourselves. Now and then trains waited on sidings to let us by, andby that means we became separated from the other troop trains, ourregiment leading all the others in the end by almost half a day. Thedin of engine whistles became so constant that we no longer noticedit. 

But there was another din that did not grow familiar. Along the linenext ours there came hurrying in the opposite direction train aftertrain of wounded, traveling at great speed, each leaving a smell inits wake that set us all to spitting. And once in so often therecame a train filled full of the sound of screaming. The first time, and the second time we believed it was ungreased axles, but afterthe third time we understood. 

Then our officers came walking along the footboards, speaking to usthrough the windows and pretending to point out characteristics ofthe scenery; and we took great interest in the scenery, asking themthe names of places and the purposes of things, for it is not goodthat one's officers should be other than arrogantly confident. 

We were a night and a day, and a night and a part of a day on thejourney, and men told us later we had done well to cross the lengthof France in that time, considering conditions. On the morning ofthe last day we began almost before it was light to hear the firingof great guns and the bursting of shells--like the thunder of thesurf on Bombay Island in the great monsoon--one roar withoutintermission, yet full of pulsation. 

I think it was midday when we drew up at last on a siding, where aFrench general waited with some French and British officers. ColonelKirby left the train and spoke with the general, and then gave theorder for us to detrain at once; and we did so very swiftly, men, and horses, and baggage. Many of us were men of more than onecampaign, able to judge by this and by that how sorely we wereneeded. We knew what it means when the reenforcements look fit forthe work in hand. The French general came and shook hands again withColonel Kirby, and saluted us all most impressively. 

We were spared all the business of caring for our own baggage andsent away at once. With a French staff officer to guide us, we rodeaway at once toward the sound of firing--at a walk, because withinreasonable limits the farther our horses might be allowed to walknow the better they would be able to gallop with us later. 

We rode along a road between straight trees, most of them scarred byshell-fire. There were shell-holes in the road, some of which hadbeen filled with the first material handy, but some had to beavoided. We saw no dead bodies, nor even dead horses, althoughsmashed gun-carriages and limbers and broken wagons were everywhere. 

To our right and left was flat country, divided by low hedges andthe same tall straight trees; but far away in front was a forest, whose top just rose above the sky-line. As we rode toward that wecould see the shells bursting near it. 

Between us and the forest there were British guns, dug in; and awayto our right were French guns--batteries and batteries of them. Andbetween us and the guns were great receiving stations for thewounded, with endless lines of stretcher-bearers like ants passingto and fro. By the din we knew that the battle stretched far awaybeyond sight to right and left of us. 

Many things we saw that were unexpected. The speed of the artilleryfire was unbelievable. But what surprised all of us most was theabsence of reserves. Behind the guns and before the guns we passedmany a place where reserves might have sheltered, but there werenone. 

There came two officers, one British and one French, gallopingtoward us. They spoke excitedly with Colonel Kirby and our Frenchstaff officer, but we continued at a walk and Colonel Kirby lit afresh cheroot. After some time there came an aeroplane with a greatsquare cross painted on its under side, and we were ordered to haltand keep quite still until it went away. When it was too far awayfor its man to distinguish us we began to trot at last, but it wasgrowing dusk when we halted finally behind the forest--dusky andcloudy, the air full of smoke from the explosions, ill-smelling anddifficult to breathe. During the last three-quarters of a mile theshells had been bursting all about us, but we had only lost one manand a horse--and the man not killed. 

As it grew darker the enemy sent up star-shells, and by their lightwe could sometimes see as plainly as by daylight. British infantrywere holding the forest in front of us and a road that ran to rightof it. Their rifle-fire was steady as the roll of drums. These werenot the regiments that preceded us from India; they had been sent toanother section of the battle. These were men who had been in thefighting from the first, and their wounded and the stretcher-bearerswere surprised to see us. No word of our arrival seemed to reach thefiring line as yet. Men were too busy to pass news. 

Over our heads from a mile away, the British and French artillerywere sending a storm, of shells, and the enemy guns were answeringtwo for one. And besides that, into the forest, and into the trenchto the right of it that was being held by the British infantry therewas falling such a cataract of fire that it was not possible tobelieve a man could live. Yet the answering rifle-fire never pausedfor a second. 

I learned afterward the name of the regiment in the end of thetrench nearest us. With these two eyes in the Hills I once saw thatsame regiment run like a thousand hares into the night, because ithad no supper and a dozen Afridi marksmen had the range. Can thesahib explain? I think I can. A man's spirit is no more in his bellythan in the cart that carries his belongings; yet, while he thinksit is, his enemies all flourish. 

We dismounted to rest the horses, and waited behind the forest untilit grew so dark that between the bursting of the star-shells a mancould not see his hand held out in front of him. Now and then astray shell chanced among us, but our casualties were very few. Iwondered greatly at the waste of ammunition. My ears ached with thedin, but there seemed more noise wrought than destruction. We hadbegun to grow restless when an officer came galloping at last toColonel Kirby's side and gave him directions with much pointing andwaving of the arm. 

Then Colonel Kirby summoned all our officers, and they rode back totell us what the plan was. The din was so great by this time thatthey were obliged to explain anew to each four men in turn. This wasthe plan:

The Germans, ignorant of our arrival, undoubtedly believed theBritish infantry to be without support and were beginning to pressforward in the hope of winning through to the railway line. Theinfantry on our right front, already overwhelmed by weight ofartillery fire, would be obliged to evacuate their trench and fallback, thus imperiling the whole line, unless we could save the day. 

Observe this, sahib: so--I make a drawing in the dust. Between thetrench here, and the forest there, was a space of level ground somefifty or sixty yards wide. There was scarcely more than a furrowacross it to protect the riflemen--nothing at all that could stop ahorse. At a given signal the infantry were to draw aside from thatpiece of level land, like a curtain drawn back along a rod, and wewere to charge through the gap thus made between them and theforest. The shock of our charge and its unexpectedness were to serveinstead of numbers. 

Fine old-fashioned tactics, sahib, that suited our mind well! Therehad been plenty on the voyage, including Gooja Singh, who argued weshould all be turned into infantry as soon as we arrived, and we haddreaded that. Each to his own. A horseman prefers to fight onhorseback with the weapons that he knows. 

Perhaps the sahib has watched Sikh cavalry at night and wondered howso many men and horses could keep so still. We had made but littlenoise hitherto, but now our silence was that of night itself. We hadbut one eye, one ear, one intellect among us. We were one! One withthe night and with the work ahead!

One red light swinging near the corner of the forest was to mean BEREADY! We were ready as the fuse is for the match! Two red lightswould mean that the sidewise movement by the infantry was under way. Three lights swinging together were to be our signal to begin. Sahib, I saw three red lights three thousand times between eachminute and the next!

The shell-fire increased from both sides. Where the British infantrylay was such a lake of flame and din that the very earth seemed toburst apart; yet the answering rifle-fire was steady--steady as theroll of drums. Then we truly saw one red light, and "EK!" said weall at once. EK means ONE, sahib, but it sounded like the opening ofa breech-block. "Mount!" ordered Colonel Kirby, and we mounted. 

While I held my breath and watched for the second light I heard anew noise behind me, different from the rest, and therefore audible--agalloping horse and a challenge close at hand. I saw in the lightof a bursting shell a Sikh officer, close followed by a trooper on ablown horse. I saw the officer ride to Colonel Kirby's side, rein inhis charger, and salute. At that instant there swung two red lights, and "DO!" said the regiment. DO means TWO, sahib, but it soundedlike the thump of ordnance. "Draw sabers!" commanded Colonel Kirby, and the rear ranks drew. The front-rank men had lances. 

By the light of a star-shell I could plainly see the Sikh officerand trooper. I recognized the charger--a beast with the devil in himand the speed of wind. I recognized both men. I thought a shell musthave struck me. I must be dead and in a new world. I let my horseedge nearer, not believing--until ears confirmed eyes. I heardColonel Kirby speak, very loud, indeed, as a man to whom good newscomes. 

"Ranjoor Singh!" said he; and he took him by the hand and wrung it. "Thank God!" he said, speaking from the heart as the British do attimes when they forget that others listen. "Thank God, old man!You've come in the nick of time!"

So I was right, and my heart leapt in me. He was with us before theblood ran! Every man in the squadron recognized him now, and I knewevery eye had watched to see Colonel Kirby draw saber and cut himdown, for habit of thought is harder to bend than a steel bar. But Icould feel the squadron coming round to my way of thinking asColonel Kirby continued talking to him, obviously making him anexplanation of our plan. 

"Join your squadron, man--hurry!" I heard Colonel Kirby say at last, for taking advantage of the darkness I had let my horse draw verynear to them. Now I had to rein back and make pretense that my horsehad been unruly, for Ranjoor Singh came riding toward us, showinghis teeth in a great grin, and Captain Fellowes with a word ofreproof thrown back to me spurred on to meet him. 

"Hurrah, Major Ranjoor Singh!" said Captain Fellowes. "I'm damnedglad to see you!" That was a generous speech, sahib, from a man whomust now yield command of the squadron, but Captain Fellowes had aheart like a bridegroom's always. He must always glory in thesquadron's luck, and he loved us better than himself. That was whywe loved him. They shook hands, and looked in each other's eyes. Ranjoor Singh wheeled his charger. And in that same second we alltogether saw three red lights swinging by the corner. 

"TIN!" said we, with one voice. Tin means three, sahib, but itsounded rather like the scream of a shell that leaves on itsjourney. 

My horse laid his ears back and dug his toes into the ground. Atrumpet sounded, and Colonel Kirby rose in his stirrups:

"Outram's Own!" he yelled, "by squadrons on number One--"

But the sahib would not be interested in the sequence of commandsthat have small meaning to those not familiar with them. And whoshall describe what followed? Who shall tell the story of a chargeinto the night, at an angle, into massed regiments of infantryadvancing one behind another at the double and taken by surprise?

The guns of both sides suddenly ceased firing. Even as I used myspurs they ceased. How? Who am I that I should know? The Britishguns, I suppose, from fear of slaying us, and the German guns fromfear of slaying Germans; but as to how, I know not. But the Germanstar-shells continued bursting overhead, and by that weird lighttheir oncoming infantry saw charging into them men they had neverseen before out of a picture-book!

God knows what tales they had been told about us Sikhs. I read theirfaces as I rode. Fear is an ugly weapon, sahib, whose hilt is moredangerous than its blade. If our officers had told us such talesabout Germans as their officers had told them about us, I thinkperhaps we might have feared to charge. 

Numbers were as nothing that night. Speed, and shock, andunexpectedness were ours, and lies had prepared us our reception. DSquadron rode behind Ranjoor Singh like a storm in the night--swunginto line beside the other squadrons--and spurred forward as in adream. There was no shouting; no war-cry. We rode into the Germansas I have seen wind cut into a forest in the hills--downward intothem, for once we had leapt the trench the ground sloped their way. And they went down before us as we never had the chance of mowingthem again. 

So, sahib, we proved our hearts--whether they were stout, and true, as the British had believed, or false, as the Germans planned andhoped. That was a night of nights--one of very few such, for themounted actions in this war have not been many. Hah! I have beenenvied! I have been called opprobrious names by a sergeant ofBritish lancers, out of great jealousy! But that is the way of theBritish. It happened later, when the trench fighting had settleddown in earnest and my regiment and his were waiting our turn behindthe lines. He and I sat together on a bench in a great tent, wheresome French artists gave us good entertainment. 

He offered me tobacco, which I do not use, and rum, which I do notdrink. He accepted sweetmeats from me. And he called me a name thatwould make the sahib gulp, a word that I suppose he had picked upfrom a barrack-sweeper on the Bengal side of India. Then he slappedme on the back, and after that sat with his arm around me while theentertainment lasted. When we left the tent he swore roundly at anewcomer to the front for not saluting me, who am not entitled tosalute. That is the way of the British. But I was speaking ofRanjoor Singh. Forgive me, sahib. 

The horse his trooper-servant rode was blown and nearly useless, sothat the trooper died that night for lack of a pair of heels, leaving us none to question as to Ranjoor Singh's late doings. ButBagh, Ranjoor Singh's charger, being a marvel of a beast whom fewcould ride but he, was fresh enough and Ranjoor Singh led us like awhirlwind beckoning a storm. I judged his heart was on fire. He ledus slantwise into a tight-packed regiment. We rolled it over, and hetook us beyond that into another one. In the dark he re-formed us(and few but he could have done that then)--lined us up again withthe other squadrons--and brought us back by the way we had come. Then he took us the same road a second time against remnants of themen who had withstood us and into yet another regiment that checkedand balked beyond. The Germans probably believed us ten times asmany as we truly were, for that one setback checked their advancealong the whole line. 

Colonel Kirby led us, but I speak of Ranjoor Singh. I never once sawColonel Kirby until the fight was over and we were back againresting our horses behind the trees while the roll was called. Throughout the fight--and I have no idea whatever how long itlasted--I kept an eye on Ranjoor Singh and spurred in his wake, obeying the least motion of his saber. No, sahib, I myself did notslay many men. It is the business of a non-commissioned man like meto help his officers keep control, and I did what I might. I wasnearly killed by a wounded German officer who seized my bridle-rein;but a trooper's lance took him in the throat and I rode onuntouched. For all I know that was the only danger I was in thatnight. 

A battle is a strange thing, sahib--like a dream. A man only knowssuch part of it as crosses his own vision, and remembers but littleof that. What he does remember seldom tallies with what the otherssaw. Talk with twenty of our regiment, and you may get twentydifferent versions of what took place--yet not one man would havelied to you, except perhaps here and there a little in the matter ofhis own accomplishment. Doubtless the Germans have a thousanddifferent accounts of it. 

I know this, and the world knows it: that night the Germans melted. They were. Then they broke into parties and were not. We pursuedthem as they ran. Suddenly the star-shells ceased from burstingoverhead, and out of black darkness I heard Colonel Kirby's voicethundering an order. Then a trumpet blared. Then I heard RanjoorSingh's voice, high-pitched. Almost the next I knew we were haltedin the shadow of the trees again, calling low to one another, friend's voice seeking friend's. We could scarcely hear the voicesfor the thunder of artillery that had begun again; and whereasformerly the German gun-fire had been greatest, now we thought theBritish and French fire had the better of it. They had been re-enforced, but I have no notion whence. 

The infantry, that had drawn aside like a curtain to let us through, had closed in again to the edge of the forest, and through the noiseof rifle-firing and artillery we caught presently the thunder of newregiments advancing at the double. Thousands of our Indian infantry--thosewho had been in the trains behind us--were coming forward ata run! God knows that was a night--to make a man glad he has lived!

It was not only the Germans who had not expected us. Now, sahib, forthe first time the British infantry began to understand who it waswho had come to their aid, and they began to sing--one song, alltogether. The wounded sang it, too, and the stretcher-bearers. Therecame a day when we had our own version of that song, but that nightit was new to us. We only caught a few words--the first words. Thesahib knows the words--the first few words? It was true we had comea long, long way; but it choked us into silence to hear thatbattered infantry acknowledge it. 

Color and creed, sahib. What are color and creed? The world hasmistaken us Sikhs too long for a breed it can not understand. WeSikhs be men, with the hearts of men; and that night we knew thatour hearts and theirs were one. Nor have I met since then the firethat could destroy the knowledge, although efforts have been made, and reasons shown me. 

But my story is of Ranjoor Singh and of what he did. I but tell myown part to throw more light on his. What I did is as nothing. Ofwhat he did, you shall be the judge--remembering this, that he whodoes, and he who glories in the deed are one. Be attentive, sahib;this is a tale of tales!

CHAPTER II

Can the die fall which side up it will? Nay, not if it behonest. --EASTERN PROVERB. 

Many a league our infantry advanced that night, the guns following, getting the new range by a miracle each time they took new ground. We went forward, too, at the cost of many casualties--too many inproportion to the work we did. We were fired on in the darkness morethan once by our own infantry. We, who had lost but seventy-two menkilled and wounded in the charge, were short another hundred whenthe day broke and nothing to the good by it. 

Getting lost in the dark--falling into shell-holes--swooping down onrear-guards that generally proved to have machine guns with them--wearymen on hungrier, wearier horses--the wonder is that a man rodeback to tell of it at dawn. 

One-hundred-and-two-and-seventy were our casualties, and some twohundred horses--some of the men so lightly wounded that they wereback in the ranks within the week. At dawn they sent us to the rearto rest, we being too good a target for the enemy by daylight. Someof us rode two to a horse. On our way to the camp the French hadpitched for us we passed through reenforcements coming from anothersection of the front, who gave us the right of way, and we took thesalute of two divisions of French infantry who, I suppose, had beentold of the service we had rendered. Said I to Gooja Singh, who saton my horse's rump, his own beast being disemboweled, "Who speaksnow of a poor beginning?" said I. 

"I would rather see the end!" said he. But he never saw the end. Gooja Singh was ever too impatient of beginnings, and too sure whatthe end ought to be, to make certain of the middle part. I haveknown men on outpost duty so far-seeing that an enemy had them athis mercy if only he could creep close enough. And such men arealways grumblers. 

Gooja Singh led the grumbling now--he who had been first to prophesyhow we should be turned into infantry. They kept us at the rear, andtook away our horses--took even our spurs, making us drill withunaccustomed weapons. And I think that the beginning of the newdistrust of Ranjoor Singh was in resentment at his patience with thebayonet drill. We soldiers are like women, sahib, ever resentful ofthe new--aye, like women in more ways than one; for whom we haveloved best we hate most when the change comes. 

Once, at least a squadron of us had loved Ranjoor Singh to thedeath. He was a Sikh of Sikhs. It had been our boast that fire couldnot burn his courage nor love corrupt him, and I was still of thatmind; but not so the others. They began to remember how he hadstayed behind when we left India. We had all seen him in disguise, in conversation with that German by the Delhi Gate. We knew how busyhe had been in the bazaars while the rumors flew. And the trooperwho had stayed behind with him, who had joined us with him at thevery instant of the charge that night, died in the charge; so thatthere was none to give explanation of his conduct. Ranjoor Singhhimself was a very rock for silence. Our British officers saidnothing, doubtless not suspecting the distrust; for it was a bywordthat Ranjoor Singh held the honor of the squadron in his hand. Yetof all the squadron only the officers and I now trusted him--theSikh officers because they imitated the British; the British becausefaith is a habit with them, once pledged, and I--God knows. Therewere hours when I did distrust him--black hours, best forgotten. 

The war settled down into a siege of trenches, and soon we weregiven a section of a trench to hold. Little by little we grew wiseat the business of tossing explosives over blind banks--we, whowould rather have been at it with the lance and saber. Yet, can adie fall which side up it will? Nay, not if it be honest! We werethere to help. We who had carried coal could shovel mud, and as timewent on we grumbled less. 

But time hung heavy, and curiosity regarding Ranjoor Singh led fromone conjecture to another. At last Gooja Singh asked CaptainFellowes, and he said that Ranjoor Singh had stayed behind to exposea German plot--that having done so, he had hurried after us. Thatexplanation ought to have satisfied every one, and I think it didfor a time. But who could hide from such a man as Ranjoor Singh thatthe squadron's faith in him was gone? That knowledge made himsavage. How should we know that he had been forbidden to tell uswhat had kept him? When he set aside his pride and made usovertures, there was no response; so his heart hardened in him. Secrecy is good. Secrecy is better than all the lame explanations inthe world. But in this war there has been too much secrecy in thewrong place. They should have let him line us up and tell us hiswhole story. But later, when perhaps he might have done it, eitherhis pride was too great or his sense of obedience too tightly spun. To this day he has never told us. Not that it matters. 

The subtlest fool is the worst, and Gooja Singh's tongue did notlack subtlety on occasion. He made it his business to remind thesquadron daily of its doubts, and I, who should have known better, laughed at some of the things he said and agreed with others. One isthe fool who speaks with him who listens. I have never been rebukedfor it by Ranjoor Singh, and more than once since that day he hasseen fit to praise me; but in that hour when most he needed friendsI became his half-friend, which is worse than enemy. I never raisedmy voice once in defense of him in those days. 

Meanwhile Ranjoor Singh grew very wise at this trench warfare, Colonel Kirby and the other British officers taking great comfort inhis cunning. It was he who led us to tie strings to the German wireentanglements, which we then jerked from our trench, causing them tolie awake and waste much ammunition. It was he who thought ofdressing turbans on the end of poles and thrusting them forward atthe hour before dawn when fear and chill and darkness have donetheir worst work. That started a panic that cost the Germans eightymen. 

I think his leadership would have won the squadron back to love him. I know it saved his life. We had all heard tales of how the Britishsoldiers in South Africa made short work of the officers they didnot love, and it would have been easy to make an end of RanjoorSingh on any dark night. But he led too well; men were afraid totake the responsibility lest the others turn on them. One night Ioverheard two troopers considering the thought, and they suspected Ihad overheard. I said nothing, but they were afraid, as I knew theywould be. Has the sahib ever heard of "left-hand casualties"? I willexplain. 

We Sikhs have a saying that in fear there is no wisdom. None can bewise and afraid. None can be afraid and wise. The men at the front, both Indian and British-French, too, for aught I know--who feared tofight longer in the trenches were seized in those early days withthe foolish thought of inflicting some injury on themselves--notvery severe, but enough to cause a spell of absence at the base anda rest in hospital. Folly being the substance of that idea, and mostmen being right-handed, such self-inflicted wounds were practicallyalways in the hand or foot and always on the left side. Theambulance men knew them, on the instant. 

Those two fools of my squadron wounded themselves with bullets inthe left hand, forgetting that their palms would be burned by thedischarge. I was sent to the rear to give evidence against them (forI saw them commit the foolishness). The cross-examination we allthree underwent was clever--at the hands of a young British captain, who, I dare swear, was suckled by a Sikh nurse in the Punjab. Inless than thirty minutes he had the whole story out of us; and thetwo troopers were shot that evening for an example. 

That young captain was greatly impressed with the story we had toldabout Ranjoor Singh, and he called me back afterward and asked me ahundred questions more--until he must have known the very color ofmy entrails and I knew not which way I faced. To all of this asenior officer of the Intelligence Department listened with bothears, and presently he and the captain talked together. 

The long and short of that was that Ranjoor Singh was sent for; andwhen he returned to the trench after two days' absence it was towork independently of us--from our trench, but irrespective of ourdoings. Even Colonel Kirby now had no orders to give him, althoughthey two talked long and at frequent intervals in the place ColonelKirby called his funk-hole. It was now that the squadron'sreawakening love for Ranjoor Singh received the worst check of any. We had almost forgotten he knew German. Henceforward he conversed inGerman each day with the enemy. 

It is a strange thing, sahib, --not easy to explain--but I, who haveachieved some fluency in English and might therefore have admiredhis gift of tongues, now began to doubt him in earnest--hatingmyself the while, but doubting him. And Gooja Singh, who had talkedthe most and dropped the blackest hints against him, now began totake his side. 

And Ranjoor Singh said nothing. Night after night he went to lie atthe point where our trench and the enemy's lay closest. There hewould talk with some one whom we never saw, while we sat shiveringin the mud. Cold we can endure, sahib, as readily as any; it iscolder in winter where I come from than anything I felt in Flanders;but the rain and the mud depressed our spirits, until with these twoeyes I have seen grown men weeping. 

They kept us at work to encourage us. Our spells in the trench wereshortened and our rests at the rear increased to the utmostpossible. Only Ranjoor Singh took no vacation, remaining ever on thewatch, passing from one trench to another, conversing ever with theenemy. 

We dug and they dug, each side laboring everlastingly to find theother's listening places and to blow them up by means of mining, sothat the earth became a very rat-run. Above-ground, where were onlyruin and barbed wire, there was no sign of activity, but only agreat stench that came from bodies none dared bury. We were thankfulthat the wind blew oftenest from us to them; but whichever way thewind blew Ranjoor Singh knew no rest. He was ever to be found wherethe lines lay closest at the moment, either listening or talking. Weunderstood very well that he was carrying out orders given him atthe rear, but that did not make the squadron or the regiment likehim any better, and as far as that went I was one with them; I hatedto see a squadron leader stoop to such intrigues. 

It was plain enough that some sort of intrigue was making headway, for the Germans soon began to toss over into our trench bundles ofprinted pamphlets, explaining in our tongue why they were our bestfriends and why therefore we should refuse to wage war on them. Theythrew printed bulletins that said, in good Punjabi, there wasrevolution from end to end of India, rioting in England, utterdisaster to the British fleet, and that our way home again to Indiahad been cut by the German war-ships. They must have been ignorantof the fact that we received our mail from India regularly. I havenoticed this about the Germans: they are unable to convincethemselves that any other people can appreciate the same things theyappreciate, think as swiftly as they, or despise the terrors theydespise. That is one reason why they must lose this war. But thereare others also. 

One afternoon, when I was pretending to doze in a niche near theentrance to Colonel Kirby's funk-hole, I became possessed of the keyto it all; for Colonel Kirby's voice was raised more than once inanger. I understood at last how Ranjoor Singh had orders to deceivethe Germans as to our state of mind. He was to make them believe wewere growing mutinous and that the leaven only needed time in whichto work; this of course for the purpose of throwing them off theirguard. 

My heart stopped beating while I listened, for what man hears hishonor smirched without wincing? Even so I think I would have held mytongue, only that Gooja Singh, who dozed in a niche on the otherside of the funk-hole entrance, heard the same as I. 

Said Gooja Singh that evening to the troopers round about: "Theychose well, " said he. "They picked a brave man--a clever man, for adesperate venture!" And when the troopers asked what that mightmean, he asked how many of them in the Punjab had seen a goat tiedto a stake to lure a panther. The suggestion made them think. Then, pretending to praise him, letting fall no word that could be thrownback in his teeth, he condemned Ranjoor Singh for a worse traitorthan any had yet believed him. Gooja Singh was a man with a certainsubtlety. A man with two tongues, very dangerous. 

"Ranjoor Singh is brave, " said he, "for he is not afraid tosacrifice us all. Many officers are afraid to lose too many men inthe gaining of an end, but not so he. He is clever, for who elsewould have thought of making us seem despicable to the Germans inorder to tempt them to attack in force at this point? Have ye notnoticed how to our rear all is being made ready for the defense andfor a counter-attack to follow? We are the bait. The battle is to bewaged over our dead bodies. "

I corrected him. I said I had heard as well as he, and that ColonelKirby was utterly angry at the defamation of those whom he was everpleased to call "his Sikhs. " But that convinced nobody, although itdid the colonel sahib no harm in the regiment's opinion--not that heneeded advocates. We were all ready to die around Colonel Kirby atany minute. Even Gooja Singh was ready to do that. 

"Does the colonel sahib accept the situation?" one of the troopersasked. 

"Aye, for he must, " said Gooja Singh; and I could not deny it. "Ranjoor Singh went over his head and orders have come from therear. " I could not deny that either, although I did not believe it. How should I, or any one, know what passed after Ranjoor Singh hadbeen sent for by the Intelligence officers? I was his half-friend inthose days, sahib. Worse than his enemy--unwilling to take partagainst him, yet unready to speak up in his defense. Doubtless mysilence went for consent among the troopers. 

The end of the discussion found men unafraid. "If the colonel sahibis willing to be bait, " said they, "then so be we, but let us see toit that none hang back. " And so the whole regiment made up its mindto die desperately, yet with many a sidewise glance at RanjoorSingh, who was watched more carefully than I think he guessed inthose days. If he had tried to slip back to the rear it would havebeen the end of him. But he continued with us. 

And all this while a great force gathered at our rear--gathered andgrew--Indian and British infantry. Guns by the fifty were broughtforward under cover of the night and placed in line behind us. Ranjoor Singh continued talking with the enemy, lying belly downwardin the mud, and they kept throwing printed stuff to us that weturned in to our officers. But the Germans did not attack. And theforce behind us grew. 

Then one evening, just after dusk, we were all amazed by the newsthat the assault was to come from our side. And almost before thatnews had reached us the guns at our rear began their overture, making preparation beyond the compass of a man's mind to grasp orconvey. They hurled such a torrent of shells that the Germans couldneither move away the troops in front of us nor bring up others totheir aid. It did not seem possible that one German could be leftalive, and I even felt jealous because, thought I, no work would beleft for us to do! Yet men did live--as we discovered. For a nightand a day our ordnance kept up that preparation, and then word wentaround. 

Who shall tell of a night attack, from a trench against trenches?Suddenly the guns ceased pounding the earth in front of us andlifted to make a screen of fire almost a mile beyond. There wasinstant pitch darkness on every hand, and out of that a hundredtrumpets sounded. Instantly, each squadron leader leaped theearthwork, shouting to his men. Ranjoor Singh leaped up in front ofus, and we followed him, all forgetting their distrust of him in thefierce excitement--remembering only how he had led us in the chargeon that first night. The air was thick with din, and fumes, andflying metal--for the Germans were not forgetting to use artillery. I ceased to think of anything but going forward. Who shall describeit?

Once in Bombay I heard a Christian preacher tell of the Judgment Dayto come, when graves shall give up their dead. That is not our Sikhidea of judgment, but his words brought before my mind a pictureriot so much unlike a night attack in Flanders. He spoke of thewhole earth trembling and consumed by fire--of thunder and lightningand a great long trumpet call--of the dead leaping alive again fromthe graves where they lay buried. Not a poor picture, sahib, of anight attack in Flanders!

The first line of German trenches, and the second had been poundedout of being by our guns. The barbed wire had been cut intofragments by our shrapnel. Here and there an arm or a leg protrudedfrom the ground--here and there a head. For two hundred yards andperhaps more there was nothing to oppose us, except the enemy shellsbursting so constantly that we seemed to breathe splintered metal. Yet very few were hit. The din was so great that it seemed to besilence. We were phantom men, going forward without sound offootfall. I could neither feel nor think for the first two hundredyards, but ran with my bayonet out in front of me. And then I didfeel. A German bayonet barked my knuckles. After that there wasfighting such as I hope never to know again. 

The Germans did not seem to have been taken by surprise at all. Theyhad made ample preparation. And as for holding us in contempt, theygave no evidence of that. Their wounded were unwilling to surrenderbecause their officers had given out we would torture prisoners. Wehad to pounce on them, and cut their buttons off and slit theirboots, so that they must use both hands to hold their trousers upand could not run. And that took time so that we lagged behind alittle, for we took more prisoners than the regiments to right andleft of us. The Dogra regiment to our left and the Gurkha regimentto our right gained on us fast, and we became, as it were, thecenter of a new moon. 

But then in the light of bursting shells we saw Colonel Kirby andRanjoor Singh and Captain Fellowes and some other officers far outin front of us beckoning--calling on us for our greatest effort. Weanswered. We swept forward after them into the teeth of all theinventions in the world. Mine after mine exploded under our veryfeet. Shrapnel burst among us. There began to be uncut wire, and menrushed out at us from trenches that we thought obliterated, but thatproved only to have been hidden under debris by our gun-fire. Shadows resolved into trenches defended by machine guns. 

But we went forward--cavalry, without a spur among us--cavalry withrifles--cavalry on foot--infantry with the fire and the drill andthe thoughts of cavalry--still cavalry at heart, for all the weaponsthey had given us and the trench life we had lived. We remembered, sahib, that the Germans had been educated lately to despise us, andwe were out that night to convert them to a different opinion! Itseemed good to D Squadron that Ranjoor Singh, who had done thedefamation, should lead us to the clearing of our name. Nothingcould stop us that night. 

Whereas we had been last in the advance, we charged into the leadand held it. We swept on I know not how far, but very far beyond thewings. No means had been devised that I know of for checking thedistance covered, and I suppose Headquarters timed the attack andtried to judge how far the advance had carried, with the aid ofmessengers sent running back. No easy task!

At all events we lost touch with the regiments to right and left, but kept touch with the enemy, pressing forward until suddenly ourown shell-fire ceased to fall in front of us but resumed poundingtoward our rear. They call such a fire a barrage, sahib. Its purposeis to prevent the enemy from making a counter-attack until theinfantry can dig themselves in and secure the new ground won. Thatmeant we were isolated. It needed no staff officer to tell, us that, or to bring us to our senses. We were like men who wake from anightmare, to find the truth more dreadful than the dream. 

Colonel Kirby was wounded a little, and sat while a risaldar boundhis arm. Ranjoor Singh found a short trench half full of water, andordered us into it. Although we had not realized it until then, itwas raining torrents, and the Germans we drove out of that trench(there were but a few of them) were wetter than water rats; but wehad to scramble down into it, and the cold bath finished what thesense of isolation had begun. We were sober men when Kirby sahibscrambled in last and ordered us to begin on the trench at once withpicks and shovels that the Germans had left behind. We altered thetrench so that it faced both ways, and waited shivering for thedawn. 

Let it not be supposed, however, sahib, that we waited unmolested. The Germans are not that kind of warrior. I hold no brief for them, but I tell no lies about them, either. They fight with persistence, bravery, and what they consider to be cunning. We were under rifle-fireat once from before and behind and the flanks, and our ownartillery began pounding the ground so close to us that fragments ofshell and shrapnel flew over our heads incessantly, and great clodsof earth came thumping and splashing into our trench, compelling usto keep busy with the shovels. Nor did the German artillery omit tomake a target of us, though with poor success. More than the half ofus lived; and to prove that there had been thought as well asbravery that night we had plenty of ammunition with us. We weretroubled to stow the ammunition out of the wet, yet where it wouldbe safe from the German fire. 

We made no reply to the shell-fire, for that would have beenfoolishness; so, doubtless thinking they had the range not quiteright, or perhaps supposing that we had been annihilated, the enemydiscontinued shelling us and devoted their attention to our friendsbeyond. But at the same time a battalion of infantry began to feelits way toward us and we grew very busy with our rifles, the woundedcrawling through the wet to pass the cartridges. Once there was abayonet charge, which we repelled. 

Those who had not thrown away their knapsacks to lighten themselveshad their emergency rations, but about half of us had nothing to eatwhatever. It was perfectly evident to all of us from the very firstthat unless we should receive prompt aid at dawn our case was ashopeless as death itself. So much the more reason for stout hearts, said we, and our bearing put new heart into our officers. 

When dawn came the sight was not inspiriting. Dawn amid a waste ofFlanders mud, seen through a rain-storm, is not a joyous spectaclein any case. Consider, sahib, what a sunny land we came from, andpass no hasty judgment on us if our spirits sank. It was theweather, not the danger that depressed us. I, who was near thecenter of the trench, could see to right and left over the ends, andI made a hasty count of heads, discovering that we, who had been aregiment, were now about three hundred men, forty of whom werewounded. 

I saw that we were many a hundred yards away from the nearestBritish trench. The Germans had crept under cover of the darknessand dug themselves in anew between us and our friends. Before us wasa trench full of infantry, and there were others to right and left. We were completely surrounded; and it was not an hour after dawnwhen the enemy began to shout to us to show our hands and surrender. Colonel Kirby forbade us to answer them, and we lay still as deadmen until they threw bombs--which we answered with bullets. 

After that we were left alone for an hour or two, and Colonel Kirby, whose wound was not serious, began passing along the trench, knee-deepin the muddy water, to inspect us and count us and give eachman encouragement. It was just as he passed close to me that ahand-grenade struck him in the thigh and exploded. He fell forward on me, and I took him across my knee lest he fall into the water and besmothered. That is how it happened that only I overheard what hesaid to Ranjoor Singh before he died. Several others tried to hear, for we loved Colonel Kirby as sons love their father; but, since helay with his head on my shoulder, my ear was as close to his lips asRanjoor Singh's, to whom he spoke, so that Ranjoor Singh and I heardand the rest did not. Later I told the others, but they chose todisbelieve me. 

Ranjoor Singh came wading along the trench, stumbling over men'sfeet in his hurry and nearly falling just as he reached us, so thatfor the moment I thought he too had been shot. Besides ColonelKirby, who was dying in my arms, he, and Captain Fellowes, and oneother risaldar were our only remaining officers. Colonel Kirby wasin great pain, so that his words were not in his usual voice butforced through clenched teeth, and Ranjoor Singh had to stoop tolisten. 

"Shepherd 'em!" said Colonel Kirby. "Shepherd 'em, Ranjoor Singh!"My ear was close and I heard each word. "A bad business. They didnot know enough to listen to you at Headquarters. Don't waste timeblaming anybody. Pray for wisdom, and fear nothing! You're incommand now. Take over. Shepherd 'em! Good-by, old friend!"

"Good-by, Colonel sahib, " said Ranjoor Singh, and Kirby sahib diedin that moment, having shed the half of his blood over me. RanjoorSingh and I laid him along a ledge above the water and it was notvery long before a chance shell dropped near and buried him under aton of earth. Yes, sahib, a British shell. 

Presently Ranjoor Singh waded along the trench to have word withCaptain Fellowes, who was wounded rather badly. I made busy with themen about me, making them stand where they could see best with leastrisk of exposure and ordering spade work here and there. It is astrange thing, sahib, but I have never seen it otherwise, that spadework--which is surely the most important thing--is the last thingtroopers will attend to unless compelled. They will comb theirbeards, and decorate the trench with colored stones and draw namesin the mud, but the all-important digging waits. Sikh and Gurkha andBritish and French are all alike in that respect. 

When Ranjoor Singh came back from his talk with Captain Fellowes hesent me to the right wing under our other risaldar, and after he waskilled by a grenade I was in command of the right wing of ourtrench. 

The three days that followed have mostly gone from memory, thatbeing the way of evil. If men could remember pain and misery theywould refuse to live because of the risk of more of it; but hopesprings ever anew out of wretchedness like sprouts on the burnedland, and the ashes are forgotten. I do not remember much of thosethree days. 

There was nothing to eat. There began to be a smell. There was worsethan nothing to drink, for thirst took hold of us, yet the water inthe trench was all pollution. The smell made us wish to vomit, yetwhat could the empty do but desire? Corpses lay all around us. No, sahib, not the dead of the night before's fighting. Have I not saidthat the weather was cold? The bombardment by our own guns precedingour attack had torn up graves that were I know not how old. When weessayed to re-bury some bodies the Germans drove us back undercover. 

That night, and the next, several attempts were made to rush us, butunder Ranjoor Singh's command we beat them off. He was wakeful asthe stars and as unexcited. Obedience to him was so comforting thatmen forgot for the time their suspicion and distrust. When dawn camethere were more dead bodies round about, and some wounded who calledpiteously for help. The Germans crawled out to help their wounded, but Ranjoor Singh bade us drive them back and we obeyed. 

Then the Germans began shouting to us, and Ranjoor Singh answeredthem. If he had answered in English, so that most of us could haveunderstood, all would surely have been well; I am certain that inthat case the affection, returning because of his fine leadership, would have destroyed the memory of suspicion. But I suppose it hadbecome habit with him to talk to the enemy in German by that time, and as the words we could not understand passed back and forth evenI began to hate him. Yet he drove a good bargain for us. 

Instead of hand-grenades the Germans began to throw bread to us--great, flat, army loaves, Ranjoor Singh not showing himself, butcounting aloud as each loaf came over, we catching with greatanxiety lest they fall into the water and be polluted. It took along time, but when there was a good dry loaf for each man, RanjoorSingh gave the Germans leave to come and carry in their wounded, andbade us hold our fire. Gooja Singh was for playing a trick but thetroopers near him murmured and Ranjoor Singh threatened him withdeath if he dared. He never forgot that. 

The Germans who came to fetch the wounded laughed at us, but RanjoorSingh forbade us to answer, and Captain Fellowes backed him up. 

"There will be another attack from our side presently, " said CaptainFellowes, "and our friends will answer for us. "

I shuddered at that. I remembered the bombardment that preceded ourfirst advance. Better die at the hands of the enemy, thought I. ButI said nothing. Presently, however, a new thought came to me, and Icalled to Ranjoor Singh along the trench. 

"You should have made a better bargain, " said I. "You should havecompelled them to care for our wounded before they were allowed totake their own!"

"I demanded, but they refused, " he answered, and then I wished I hadbitten out my tongue rather than speak, for although I believed hisanswer, the rest of the men did not. There began to be new murmuringagainst him, led by Gooja Singh; but Gooja Singh was too subtle tobe convicted of the responsibility. 

Captain Fellowes grew aware of the murmuring and made much showthenceforward of his faith in Ranjoor Singh. He was weak from hiswound and was attended constantly by two men, so that although hekept command of the left wing and did ably he could not shout loudenough to be heard very far, and he had to send messages to RanjoorSingh from mouth to mouth. His evident approval had somewhat theeffect of subduing the men's resentment, although not much, and whenhe died that night there was none left, save I, to lend our leadercountenance. And I was only his half-friend, without enough merit inmy heart truly to be the right-hand man I was by right of seniority. I was willing enough to die at his back, but not to share contemptwith him. 

The day passed and there came another day, when the bread was done, and there were no more German wounded straddled in the mud over whomto strike new bargains. It had ceased raining, so we could catch norain to drink. We were growing weak from weariness and want ofsleep, and we demanded of Ranjoor Singh that he lead us back towardthe British lines. 

"We should perish on the way, " said he. 

"What of it?" we answered, I with the rest. "Better that than thisvulture's death in a graveyard!"

But he shook his head and ordered us to try to think like men. "Thelife of a Sikh, " said he, "and the oath of a Sikh are one. We sworeto serve our friends. To try to cut our way back would be but to diefor our own comfort. "

"You should have led us back that first night, when the attack wasspent, " said Gooja Singh. 

"I was not in command that first night, " Ranjoor Singh answered him, and who could gainsay that?

At irregular intervals British shells began bursting near us, and weall knew what they were. The batteries were feeling for the range. They would begin a new bombardment. Now, therefore, is the end, saidwe. But Ranjoor Singh stood up with his head above the trench andbegan shouting to the Germans. They answered him. Then, to our utterastonishment, he tore the shirt from a dead man, tied it to a rifle, and held it up. 

The Germans cheered and laughed, but we made never a sound. We werebewildered--sick from the stink and weariness and thirst and lack offood. Yet I swear to you, sahib, on my honor that it had not enteredinto the heart of one of us to surrender. That we who had been firstof the Indian contingent to board a ship, first to land in France, first to engage the enemy, should now be first to surrender in abody seemed to us very much worse than death. Yet Ranjoor Singh badeus leave our rifles and climb out of the trench, and we obeyed him. God knows why we obeyed him. I, who had been half-hearted hitherto, hated him in that minute as a trapped wolf hates the hunter; yet I, too, obeyed. 

We left our dead for the Germans to bury, but we dragged the woundedout and some of them died as we lifted them. When we reached theGerman trench and they counted us, including Ranjoor Singh andthree-and-forty wounded there were two-hundred-and-three-and-fiftyof us left alive. 

They led Ranjoor Singh apart. He had neither rifle nor saber in hishand, and he walked to their trench alone because we avoided him. Hewas more muddy than we, and as ragged and tired. He had stood in thesame foul water, and smelt the same stench. He was hungry as we. Hehad been willing to surrender, and we had not. Yet he walked like anofficer, and looked like one, and we looked like animals. And weknew it, and he knew it. And the Germans recognized the facts. 

He acted like a crowned king when he reached the trench. A Germanofficer spoke with him earnestly, but he shook his head and thenthey led him away. When he was gone the same officer came and spoketo us in English, and I understanding him at once, he bade me tellthe others that the British must have witnessed our surrender. "See, " said he, "what a bombardment they have begun again. That isin the hope of slaying you. That is out of revenge because you daredsurrender instead of dying like rats in a ditch to feed theirpride!" It was true that a bombardment had begun again. It had begunthat minute. Those truly had been ranging shells. If we had stayedfive minutes longer before surrendering we should have been blown topieces; but we were in no mood to care on that account. 

The Germans are a simple folk, sahib, although they themselves thinkotherwise. When they think they are the subtlest they are easiest tounderstand. Understanding was reborn in my heart on account of thatGerman's words. Thought I, if Ranjoor Singh were in truth a traitorthen he would have leaped at a chance to justify himself to us. Hewould have repeated what that German had urged him to tell us. Yet Isaw him refuse. 

As they hurried him away alone, pity for him came over me like warmrain on the parched earth, and when a man can pity he can reason, Ispoke in Punjabi to the others and the German officer thought I wastranslating what he told me to say, yet in truth I reminded themthat man can find no place where God is not, and where God is iscourage. I was senior now, and my business was to encourage them. They took new heart from my words, all except Gooja Singh, who weptnoisily, and the German officer was pleased with what he mistook forthe effect of his speech. 

"Tell them they shall be excellently treated, " said he, seizing myelbow. "When we shall have won this war the British will no longerbe able to force natives of India to fight their battles for them. "

I judged it well to repeat that word for word. There are over tenapplicants for every vacancy in such a regiment as ours, and untilRanjoor Singh ordered our surrender, we were all free men--freegivers of our best; whereas the Germans about us were allconscripts. The comparison did no harm. 

We saw no more of our wounded until some of them were returned to ushealed, weeks later; but from them we learned that their treatmenthad been good. With us, however, it was not so, in spite of thepromise the German officer had made. We were hustled along a widetrench, and taken over by another guard, not very numerous butbrutal, who kicked us without excuse. As we went the trenches wereunder fire all the time from the British artillery. The guards sworeit was our surrender that had drawn the fire, and belabored us themore on that account. 

At the rear of the German lines we were herded in a quarry lest weobserve too much, and it was not until after dark that we were givenhalf a loaf of bread apiece. Then, without time to eat that whichhad been given to us, we were driven off into the darkness. First, however, they took our goatskin overcoats away, saying they were toogood to be worn by savages. A non-commissioned officer, who couldspeak good English, was sent for to explain that point to us. 

After an hour's march through the dark we were herded into somecattle trucks that stood on a siding behind some trees. The trucksdid not smell of cattle, but of foul garments and unwashed men. Twoarmed German infantrymen were locked into each truck with us, andthe pair in the truck in which I was drove us in a crowd to thefarther end, claiming an entire half for themselves. It was truethat we stank, for we had been many days and nights withoutopportunity to get clean; yet they offered us no means of washing--onlyabuse. I have seen German prisoners allowed to wash before theyhad been ten minutes behind the British lines. 

We were five days in that train, sahib--five days and nights. Ourguards were fed at regular intervals, but not we. Once or twice aday they brought us a bucket of water from which we were biddendrink in a great hurry while the train waited; yet often the trainwaited hours on sidings and no water at all was brought us. For foodwe were chiefly dependent on the charity of people at the waysidestations who came with gifts intended for German wounded; some ofthose took pity on us. 

At last, sahib, when we were cold and stiff and miserable to thevery verge of death, we came to a little place called Oeschersleben, and there the cruelty came to an unexpected end. We were ordered outof the trucks and met on the platform by a German, not in uniform, who showed distress at our predicament and who hastened to assure usin our own tongue that henceforward there would be amends made. 

If that man had taken charge of us in the beginning we might nothave been suspicious of him, for he seemed gentle and his words werefair; but now his kindness came too late to have effect. Animals cansometimes be rendered tame by starvation and brutality followed byplenty and kindness, but not men, and particularly not Sikhs--itbeing no part of our Guru's teaching that either full belly ortutored intellect can compensate for lack of goodness. Neither is ithis teaching, on the other hand, that a man must wear thoughts onhis face; so we did not reject this man's advances. 

"There have been mistakes made, " said he, "by ignorant commonsoldiers who knew no better. You shall recuperate on good food, andthen we shall see what we shall see. "

I asked him where Ranjoor Singh was, but he did not answer me. 

We were not compelled to walk. Few of us could have walked. We werestiff from confinement and sick from neglect. Carts drawn by oxenstood near the station, and into those we were crowded and driven toa camp on the outskirts of the town. There comfortable wooden hutswere ready, well warmed and clean--and a hot meal--and much hotwater in which we were allowed to bathe. 

Then, when we had eaten, doctors came and examined us. New clotheswere given us--German uniforms of khaki, and khaki cotton cloth fromwhich to bind new turbans. Nothing was left undone to make us feelwell received, except that a barbed-wire fence was all about thecamp and armed guards marched up and down outside. 

Being senior surviving non-commissioned officer, I was put in chargeof the camp in a certain manner, with many restrictions to myauthority, and for about a week we did nothing but rest and eat andkeep the camp tidy. All day long Germans, mostly women and childrenbut some men, came to stare at us through the barbed-wire fence asif we were caged animals, but no insults were offered us. Rather, the women showed us kindness and passed us sweetmeats and strangefood through the fence until an officer came and stopped them withoverbearing words. Then, presently, there was a new change. 

A week had gone and we were feeling better, standing about andlooking at the freshly fallen snow, marking the straight tracks madeby the sentries outside the fence, and thinking of home maybe, whennew developments commenced. 

Telegrams translated into Punjabi were nailed to the door of a hut, telling of India in rebellion and of men, women and childrenbutchered by the British in cold blood. Other telegrams stated thatthe Sikhs of India in particular had risen, and that Pertab Singh, our prince, had been hanged in public. Many other lies they postedup. It would be waste of time to tell them all. They werefoolishness--such foolishness as might deceive the German public, but not us who had lived in India all our lives and who had receivedour mail from home within a day or two of our surrender. 

There came plausible men who knew our tongue and the argument wasbluntly put to us that we ought to let expediency be our guide inall things. Yet we were expected to trust the men who gave us suchadvice!

Our sense of justice was not courted once. They made appeal to ourbellies--to our purses--to our lust--to our fear--but to ourrighteousness not at all. They made for us great pictures of whatGerman rule of the world would be, and at last I asked whether itwas true that the kaiser had turned Muhammadan. I was given noanswer until I had asked repeatedly, and then it was explained howthat had been a rumor sent abroad to stir Islam; to us, on the otherhand, nothing but truth was told. So I asked, was it true that ourPrince Pertab Singh had been hanged, and they told me yes. I askedthem where, and they said in Delhi. Yet I knew that Pertab Singh wasall the while in London. I asked them where was Ranjoor Singh allthis while, and for a time they made no answer, so I asked again andagain. Then one day they began to talk of Ranjoor Singh. 

They told us he was being very useful to them, in Berlin, in dailyconference with the German General Staff, explaining matters thatpertained to the intended invasion of India. Doubtless they thoughtthat news would please us greatly. But, having heard so many liesalready, I set that down for another one, and the others became allthe more determined in their loyalty from sheer disgust at RanjoorSingh's unfaithfulness. They believed and I disbelieved, yet theresult was one. 

At night Gooja Singh held forth in the hut where he slept withtwenty-five others. He explained--although he did not say how heknew--that the Germans have kept for many years in Berlin an officefor the purpose of intrigue in India--an office manned by Sikhtraitors. "That is where Ranjoor Singh will be, " said he. "He willbe managing that bureau. " In those days Gooja Singh was RanjoorSingh's bitterest enemy, although later he changed sides again. 

The night-time was the worst. By day there was the camp to keepclean and the German officers to talk to; but at night we lay awakethinking of India, and of our dead officer sahibs, and of all thathad been told us that we knew was lies. Ever the conversation turnedto Ranjoor Singh at last, and night after night the anger grewagainst him. I myself admitted very often that his duty had been tolead us to our death. I was ashamed as the rest of our surrender. 

After a time, as our wounded began to be drafted back to us fromhospital, we were made to listen to accounts of alleged great Germanvictories. They told us the German army was outside Paris and thatthe whole of the British North Sea Fleet was either sunk orcaptured. They also said that the Turks in Gallipoli had won greatvictories against the Allies. We began to wonder why such conquerorsshould seek so earnestly the friendship of a handful of us Sikhs. Our wounded began to be drafted back to us well primed, and theirstories made us think, but not as the Germans would have had usthink. 

Week after week until the spring came we listened to their tales byday and talked them over among ourselves at night; and the more theyassured us Ranjoor Singh was working with them in Berlin, the morewe prayed for opportunity to prove our hearts. Spring dragged alonginto summer and there began to be prayers for vengeance on him. Isaid less than any. Understanding had not come to me fully yet, butit seemed to me that if Ranjoor Singh was really playing traitor, then he was going a tedious way about it. Yet it was equally clearthat if I should dare to say one word in his behalf that would be topass sentence on myself. I kept silence when I could, and wasevasive when they pressed me, cowardice struggling with newconviction in my heart. 

There came one night at last, when men's hearts burned in them tooterribly for sleep, that some one proposed a resolution and sent theword whispering from hut to hut, that we should ask for RanjoorSingh to be brought to us. Let the excuse be that he was ourrightful leader, and that therefore he ought to advise us what weshould do. Let us promise to do faithfully whatever Ranjoor Singhshould order. Then, when he should have been brought to us, shouldhe talk treason we would tear him in pieces with our hands. Thatresolution was agreed to. I also agreed. It was I who asked the nextday that Ranjoor Singh be brought. The German officer laughed; yet Iasked again, and he went away smiling. 

We talked of our plan at night. We repeated it at dawn. We whisperedit above the bread at breakfast. After breakfast we stood in groups, confirming our decision with great oaths and binding one another tofulfillment--I no less than all the others. Like the others I wasblinded now by the sense of our high purpose and I forgot toconsider what might happen should Ranjoor Singh take any other linethan that expected of him. 

I think it was eleven in the morning of the fourth day after ourdecision, when we had all grown weary of threats of vengeance and ofargument as to what each individual man should do to our major'sbody, that there was some small commotion at the entrance gate and aman walked through alone. The gate slammed shut again behind him. 

He strode forward to the middle of our compound, stood still, andconfronted us. We stared at him. We gathered round him. We saidnothing. 

"Fall in, two deep!" commanded he. And we fell in, two deep, just ashe ordered. 

"'Ten-shun!" commanded he. And we stood to attention. 

Sahib, he was Ranjoor Singh!

He stood within easy reach of the nearest man, clothed in a newkhaki German uniform. He wore a German saber at his side. Yet Iswear to you the saber was not the reason why no man struck at him. Nor were there Germans near enough to have rescued him. We, whoseoath to murder him still trembled on our lips, stood and faced himwith trembling knees now that he had come at last. 

We stood before him like two rows of dumb men, gazing at his face. Ihave heard the English say that our eastern faces are impossible toread, but that can only be because western eyes are blind. We canread them readily enough. Yet we could not read Ranjoor Singh's thatday. It dawned on us as we stared that we did not understand, butthat he did; and there is no murder in that mood. 

Before we could gather our wits he began to speak to us, and welistened as in the old days when at least a squadron of us had lovedhim to the very death. A very unexpected word was the first he used. 

"Simpletons!" said he. 

Sahib, our jaws dropped. Simpletons was the last thing we hadthought ourselves. On the contrary, we thought ourselves astute tohave judged his character and to have kept our minds uncorrupted bythe German efforts. Yet we were no longer so sure of ourselves thatany man was ready with an answer. 

He glanced over his shoulder to left and right. There were noGermans inside the fence; none near enough to overhear him, even ifhe raised his voice. So he did raise it, and we all heard. 

"I come from Berlin!"

"Ah!" said we--as one man. For another minute he stood eying us, waiting to see whether any man would speak. 

"We be honest men!" said a trooper who stood not far from me, andseveral others murmured, so I spoke up. 

"He has not come for nothing, " said I. "Let us listen first and passjudgment afterward. "

"We have heard enough treachery!" said the trooper who had spokenfirst, but the others growled him down and presently there wassilence. 

"You have eyes, " said Ranjoor Singh, "and ears, and nose, and lipsfor nothing at all but treachery!" He spoke very slowly, sahib. "Youhave listened, and smelled for it, and have spoken of nothing else, and what you have sought you think you have found! To argue with menin the dark is like gathering wind into baskets. My business is tolead, and I will lead. Your business is to follow, and you shallfollow. " Then, "Simpletons!" said he again; and having said that hewas silent, as if to judge what effect his words were having. 

No man answered him. I can not speak for the others, although therewas a wondrous maze of lies put forth that night by way ofexplanation that I might repeat. All I know is that through my mindkept running against my will self-accusation, self-condemnation, self-contempt! I had permitted my love for Ranjoor Singh to becorrupted by most meager evidence. If I had not been his enemy, Ihad not been true to him, and who is not true is false. I foughtwith a sense of shame as I have since then fought with thirst andhunger. All the teachings of our Holy One accused me. Above all, Ranjoor Singh's face accused me. I remembered that for more thantwenty years he had stood to all of us for an example of what Sikhhonor truly is, and that he had been aware of it. 

"I know the thoughts ye think!" said he, beginning again when he hadgiven us time to answer and none had dared. "I will give you a realthought to put in the place of all that foolishness. This is aregiment. I am its last surviving officer. Any regiment can kill itsofficers. If ye are weary of being a regiment, behold--I am as nearyou as a man's throat to his hand! Have no fear"--(that was a bitterthrust, sahib!)--"this is a German saber; I will use no German steelon any of you. I will not strike back if any seek to kill me. "

There was no movement and no answer, sahib. We did not think; wewaited. If he had coaxed us with specious arguments, as surely aliar would have done, that would probably have been his last speechin the world. But there was not one word he said that did not ringtrue. 

"I have been made a certain offer in Berlin, " said he, after anotherlong pause. "First it was made to me alone, and I would not acceptit. I and my regiment, said I, are one. So the offer was repeated tome as the leader of this regiment. Thus they admitted I am therightful leader of it, and the outcome of that shall be on theirheads. As major of this regiment, I accepted the offer, and as itsmajor I now command your obedience. "

"Obedience to whom?" asked I, speaking again as it were against mywill, and frightened by my own voice. 

"To me, " said he. 

"Not to the Germans?" I asked. He wore a German uniform, and so forthat matter did we all. 

"To me, " he said again, and he took one step aside that he might seemy face better. "You, Hira Singh, you heard Colonel Kirby make overthe command!"

Every man in the regiment knew that Colonel Kirby had died across myknees. They looked from Ranjoor Singh to me, and from me to RanjoorSingh, and I felt my heart grow first faint from dread of theirsuspicion, and then bold, then proud that I should be judged fit tostand beside him. Then came shame again, for I knew I was not fit. My loyalty to him had not stood the test. All this time I thought Ifelt his eyes on me like coals that burned; yet when I dared look uphe was not regarding me at all, but scanning the two lines of faces, perhaps to see if any other had anything to say. 

"If I told you my plan, " said he presently, when he had cleared histhroat, "you would tear it in little pieces. The Germans haveanother plan, and they will tell you as much of it as they think itgood for you to know. Mark what my orders are! Listen to this planof theirs. Pretend to agree. Then you shall be given weapons. Thenyou shall leave this camp within a week. "

That, sahib, was like a shell bursting in the midst of men asleep. What did it mean? Eyes glanced to left and right, looking forunderstanding and finding none, and no man spoke because none couldthink of anything to say. It was on my tongue to ask him to explainwhen he gave us his final word on the matter--and little enough itwas, yet sufficient if we obeyed. 

"Remember the oath of a Sikh!" said he. "Remember that he who istrue in his heart to his oath has Truth to fight for him! Treacherybegets treason, treason begets confusion; and who are ye to stay thecourse of things? Faith begets faith; courage gives birth toopportunity!"

He paused, but we knew he had not finished yet, and he kept uswaiting full three minutes wondering what would come. Then:

"As for your doubts, " said he. "If the head aches, shall the bodycut it off that it may think more clearly? Consider that!" said he. "Dismiss!"

We fell out and he marched away like a king with thoughts of statein mind. I thought his beard was grayer than it had been, but oh, sahib, he strode as an arrow goes, swift and straight, and splendid. Lonely as an arrow that has left the sheaf!

I had to run to catch up with him, and I was out of breath when Itouched his sleeve. He turned and waited while I thought of thingsto say, and then struggled to find words with which to say them. 

"Sahib!" said I. "Oh, Major sahib!" And then my throat became fullof words each struggling to be first, and I was silent. 

"Well?" said he, standing with both arms folded, looking very grave, but not angry nor contemptuous. 

"Sahib, " I said, "I am a true man. As I stand here, I am a true man. I have been a fool--I have been half-hearted--I was like a man inthe dark; I listened and heard voices that deceived me!"

"And am I to listen and hear voices, too?" he asked. 

"Nay, sahib!" I said. "Not such voices, but true words!"

"Words?" he said. "Words! Words! There have already been too manywords. Truth needs no words to prove it true, Hira Singh. Words arethe voice of nothingness!"

"Then, sahib--" said I, stammering. 

"Hira Singh, " said he, "each man's heart is his own. Let each mankeep his own. When the time comes we shall see no true men eatingshame, " said he. 

And with that he acknowledged my salute, turned on his heel, andmarched away. And the great gate slammed behind him. And Germanofficers pressing close on either side talked with him earnestly, asking, as plainly as if I heard the words, what he had said, andwhat we had said, and what the outcome was to be. I could see hislips move as he answered, but no man living could have guessed whathe told them. I never did know what he told them. But I have livedto see the fruit of what he did, and of what he made us do; and fromthat minute I have never faltered for a second in my faithfulness toRanjoor Singh. 

Be attentive, sahib, and learn what a man of men is Risaldar-majorRanjoor Singh bahadur. 

CHAPTER III

Shall he who knows not false from true judge treason?--EASTERN PROVERB. 

You may well imagine, sahib, in the huts that night there was noiseas of bees about to swarm. No man slept. Men flitted like ghostsfrom hut to hut--not too openly, nor without sufficient evidence ofstealth to keep the guards in good conceit of themselves, but freelyfor all that. What the men of one hut said the men of the next hutknew within five minutes, and so on, back and forth. 

I was careful to say nothing. When men questioned me, "Nay, " said I. "I am one and ye are many. Choose ye! Could I lead you against yourwills?" They murmured at that, but silence is easier to keep thansome men think. 

Why did I say nothing? In the first place, sahib, because my mindwas made at last. With all my heart now, with the oath of a Sikh andthe truth of a Sikh I was Ranjoor Singh's man. I believed him true, and I was ready to stand or fall by that belief, in the dark, in theteeth of death, against all odds, anywhere. Therefore there wasnothing I could say with wisdom. For if they were to suspect my truethoughts, they would lose all confidence in me, and then I should beof little use to the one man who could help all of us. I judged thatwhat Ranjoor Singh most needed was a silent servant who would watchand obey the first hint. Just as I had watched him in battle and hadherded the men for him to lead, so would I do now. There should bedeeds, not words, for the foundation of a new beginning. 

In the second place, sahib, I knew full well that if Gooja Singh orany of the others could have persuaded me to advance an opinion itwould have been pounced on, and changed out of all recognition, yetnamed my opinion nevertheless. This altered opinion they wouldpresently adopt, yet calling it mine, and when the outcome of itshould fail at last to please them they would blame me. For such isthe way of the world. So I had two good reasons, and the words Ispoke that night could have been counted without aid of pen andpaper. 

The long and short of it was that morning found them undecided. There was one opinion all held--even Gooja Singh, who otherwise tookboth sides as to everything--that above all and before all we wereall true men, loyal to our friends, the British, and foes of everyliving German or Austrian or Turk so long as the war should last. The Germans had bragged to us about the Turks being in the war ontheir side, and we had thought deeply on the subject of their choiceof friends. Like and like mingle, sahib. As for us, my grandfatherfought for the British in '57, and my father died at Kandahar underBobs bahadur. On that main issue we were all one, and all ashamed tobe prisoners while our friends were facing death. But dawn foundalmost no two men agreed as to Ranjoor Singh, or in fact on anyother point. 

Not long after dawn, came the Germans again, with new arguments. Andthis time they began to let us feel the iron underlying theirpersuasion. Once, to make talk and gain time before answering aquestion, I had told them of our labor in the bunkers on the shipthat carried us from India. I had boasted of the coal we piled onthe fire-room floor. Lo, it is always foolish to give information tothe enemy--always, sahib--always! There is no exception. 

Said they to us now: "We Germans are devoting all our energy toprosecution of this war. Nearly all our able-bodied men are with theregiments. Every man must do his part, for we are a nation in arms. Even prisoners must do their part. Those who do not fight for usmust work to help the men who do fight. "

"Work without pay?" said I. 

"Aye, " said they, "work without pay. There is coal, for instance. Weunderstand that you Sikhs have proved yourselves adept at work withcoal. He who can labor in the bunkers of a ship can handle pick andshovel in the mines, and most of our miners have been called up. Yetwe need more coal than ever. "

So, sahib. So they turned my boast against me. And the men aroundme, who had heard me tell the tale about our willing labor on theship, now eyed me furiously; although at the time they had enjoyedthe boast and had added details of their own. The Germans went awayand left us to talk over this new suggestion among ourselves, anduntil afternoon I was kept busy speaking in my own defense. 

"Who could have foreseen how they would use my words against us?" Idemanded. But they answered that any fool could have foreseen it, and that my business was to foresee in any case and to give themgood advice. I kept that saying in my heart, and turned it againstTHEM when the day came. 

That afternoon the Germans returned, with knowing smiles that weremeant to seem courteous, and with an air of confidence that wasmeant to appear considerate. Doubtless a cat at meal-time believesmen think him generous and unobtrusive. They went to great troubleto prove themselves our wise counselors and disinterested friends. 

"We have explained to you, " said they, "what hypocrites the Britishare, --what dust they have thrown in your eyes for more than acentury--how they have grown rich at your expense, deliberatelykeeping India in ignorance and subjection, in poverty and vice, anddivided against itself. We have told you what German aims are on theother hand, and how successful our armies are on every front as theresult of the consistence of those aims. We have proved to you howhalf the world already takes our side--how the Turks fight for us, how Persia begins to join the Turks, how Afghanistan already moves, and how India is in rebellion. Now--wouldn't you like to join ourside--to throw the weight of Sikh honor and Sikh bravery into thescale with us? That would be better fun than working in the mines, "said they. 

"Are we offered that alternative?" I asked, but they did not answerthat question. They went away again and left us to our thoughts. 

And we talked all the rest of that day and most of the next night, arriving at no decision. When they asked me for an opinion, I said, "Ranjoor Singh told us this would be, and he gave us orders what todo. " When they asked me ought they to obey him, I answered, "Nay, choose ye! Who can make you obey against your wills?" And when theyasked me would I abide by their decision, "Can the foot walk oneway, " I answered, "while the body walks another? Are we not one?"said I. 

"Then, " said they, "you bid us consider this proposal to take partagainst our friends?"

"Nay, " said I, "I am a true man. No man can make me fight againstthe British. "

They thought on that for a while, and then surrounded me again, Gooja Singh being spokesman for them all. "Then you counsel us, "said he, "to choose the hard labor in the coal mines?"

"Nay, " said I. "I counsel nothing. "

"But what other course is there?" said he. 

"There is Ranjoor Singh, " said I. 

"But he desired to lead us against the British, " said he. 

"Nay, " said I. "Who said so?"

Gooja Singh answered: "He, Ranjoor Singh himself, said so. "

"Nay, " said I. "I heard what he said. He said he will lead us, buthe said nothing of his plan. He did not say he will lead us againstthe British. "

"Then it was the Germans. They said so, " said Gooja Singh. "Theysaid he will lead us against the British. "

"The Germans said, " said I, "that their armies are outside Paris--thatIndia is in rebellion--that Pertab Singh was hanged in Delhi--thatthe British rule in India has been altogether selfish--that ourwives and children have been butchered by the British in cold blood. The Germans, " said I, "have told us very many things. "

"Then, " said he, "you counsel us to follow Ranjoor Singh?"

"Nay, " said I. "I counsel nothing. "

"You are a coward!" said he. "You are afraid to give opinion!"

"I am one among many!" I answered him. 

They left me alone again and talked in groups, Gooja Singh passingfrom one group to another like a man collecting tickets. Then, whenit was growing dusk, they gathered once more about me and GoojaSingh went through the play of letting them persuade him to bespokesman. 

"If we decide to follow Ranjoor Singh, " said he, "will you be onewith us?"

"If that is the decision of you all, " I answered, "then yes. But ifit is Gooja Singh's decision with the rest consenting, then no. Isthat the decision of you all?" I asked, and they murmured a sort ofanswer. 

"Nay!" said I. "That will not do! Either yes or no. Either ye arewilling or ye are unwilling. Let him who is unwilling say so, and Ifor one will hold no judgment against him. "

None answered, though I urged again and again. "Then ye are allwilling to give Ranjoor Singh a trial?" said I; and this time theyall answered in the affirmative. 

"I think your decision well arrived at!" I made bold to tell them. "To me it seems you have all seen wisdom, and although I hadthoughts in mind, " said I, "of accepting work in the collieries andblowing up a mine perhaps, yet I admit your plan is better and Idefer to it. "

They were much more pleased with that speech than if I had admittedthe truth, that I would never have agreed to any other plan. So thatnow they were much more ready than they might have been to listen tomy next suggestion. 

"But, " said I, with an air of caution, "shall we not keep any watchon Ranjoor Singh?"

"Let us watch!" said they. "Let us be forehanded!"

"But how?" said I. "He is an officer. He is not bound to lay barehis thoughts to us. "

They thought a long time about that. It grew dark, and we wereordered to our huts, and lights were put out, and still they layawake and talked of it. At last Gooja Singh flitted through the darkand came to me and asked me my opinion on the matter. 

"One of you go and offer to be his servant, " said I. "Let thatservant serve him well. A good servant should know more about hismaster than the master himself. "

"Who shall that one be?" he asked; and he went back to tell the menwhat I had said. 

After midnight he returned. "They say you are the one to keep watchon him, " said he. 

"Nay, nay!" said I, with my heart leaping against my ribs, but myvoice belying it. "If I agree to that, then later you will swear Iam his friend and condemn me in one judgment with him!"

"Nay, " said he. "Nay truly! On the honor of a Sikh!"

"Mine is also the honor of a Sikh, " said I, "and I will cover itwith care. Go back to them, " I directed, "and let them all come andspeak with me at dawn. "

"Is my word not enough?" said he. 

"Was Ranjoor Singh's enough?" said I, and he went, muttering tohimself. 

I slept until dawn--the first night I had slept in three--and beforebreakfast they all clustered about me, urging me to be the one tokeep close watch on Ranjoor Singh. 

"God forbid that I should be stool pigeon!" said I. "Nay, Godforbid! Ranjoor Singh need but give an order that ye have no likingfor and ye will shoot me in the back for it!"

They were very earnest in their protestations, urging me more andmore; but the more they urged the more I hung back, and we atebefore I gave them any answer. "This is a plot, " said I, "to get mein trouble. What did I ever do that ye should combine against me?"

"Nay!" said they. "By our Sikh oath, we be true men and yourfriends. Why do you doubt us?"

Then said I at last, as it were reluctantly, "If ye demand it--if yeinsist--I will be the go-between. Yet I do it because ye compel meby weight of unanimity!" said I. 

"It is your place!" said they, but I shook my head, and to this dayI have never admitted to them that I undertook the work willingly. 

Presently came the Germans to us again, this time accompanied byofficers in uniform who stood apart and watched with an air ofpassing judgment. They asked us now point-blank whether or not wewere willing to work in the coal mines and thus make some return forthe cost of keeping us; and we answered with one voice that we werenot coal-miners and therefore not willing. 

"The alternative, " said they, "is that you apply to fight on theside of the Central Empires. Men must all either fight or work inthese days; there is no room for idlers. "

"Is there no other work we could do?" asked Gooja Singh. 

"None that we offer you!" said they. "If you apply to be allowed tofight on the side of the Central Empires, then your application willbe considered. However, you would be expected to forswear allegianceto Great Britain, and to take the military oath as provided by ourlaw; so that in the event of any lapse of discipline or loyalty toour cause you could be legally dealt with. "

"And the alternative is the mines?" said I. 

"No, no!" said the chief of them. "You must not misunderstand. Yourpresent destination is the coal mines, where you are to earn yourkeep. But the suggestion is made to you that you might care to applyfor leave to fight on our side. In that case we would not send youto the coal mines until at least your application had beenconsidered. It is practically certain it would be consideredfavorably. "

The conversation was in English as usual and many of the men had notquite understood. Those on the outside had not heard properly. So Ibade four men lift me, and I shouted to them in our own tongue allthat the German had said. There fell a great silence, and the fourmen let me drop to the earth between them. 

"So is this the trap Ranjoor Singh would lead us into?" said thetrooper nearest me, and though he spoke low, so still were we allthat fifty men heard him and murmured. So I spoke up. 

Said I, "We will answer when we shall have spoken again with RanjoorSingh. He shall give our answer. It is right that a regiment shouldanswer through its officer, and any other course is lackingdiscipline!"

Sahib, I have been surprised a thousand times in this war, but notonce more surprised than by the instant effect my answer had. It wasa random answer, made while I searched for some argument to use; butthe German spokesman turned at once and translated to the officersin uniform. Watching them very closely, I saw them laugh, and itseemed to me they approved my answer and disapproved some othermatter. I think they disapproved the civilian method of minglingwith us in a mob, for a moment later the order was given us inEnglish to fall in, and we fell in two deep. Then the civilianGermans drew aside and one of the officers in uniform strode towardthe entrance gate. We waited in utter silence, wondering what next, but the officer had not been gone ten minutes when we caught sightof him returning with Ranjoor Singh striding along beside him. 

Ranjoor Singh and he advanced toward us and I saw Ranjoor Singhspeak with him more emphatically than his usual custom. EvidentlyRanjoor Singh had his way, for the officer spoke in German to theothers and they all walked out of the compound in a group, leavingRanjoor Singh facing us. He waited until the gate clanged shutbehind them before he spoke. 

"Well?" said he. "I was told the regiment asked for word with me. What is the word?"

"Sahib, " said I, standing out alone before the men, not facing him, but near one end of the line, so that I could raise my voice withpropriety and all the men might hear. He backed away, to give moreeffect to that arrangement. "Sahib, " I said, "we are in a trap. Either we go to the mines, or we fight for the Germans against theBritish. What is your word on the matter?"

"Ho!" said he. "Is it as bad as that? As bad as that?" said he. "Ifye go to the mines to dig coal, they will use that coal to makeammunition for their guns! That seems a poor alternative! They fightas much with ammunition as with men!"

"Sahib, " said I, "it is worse than that! They seek to compel us tosign a paper, forswearing our allegiance to Great Britain andclaiming allegiance to them! Should we sign it, that makes us outtraitors in the first place, and makes us amenable to their law inthe second place. They could shoot us if we disobeyed or demurred. "

"They could do that in the mines, " said he, "if you failed to digenough coal to please them. They would call it punishment formalingering--or some such name. If they take it into their heads tohave you all shot, doubt not they will shoot!"

"Yet in that case, " said I, "we should not be traitors. "

"I will tell you a story, " said he, and we held our breath tolisten, for this was his old manner. This had ever been his way ofputting recruits at ease and of making a squadron understand. Inthat minute, for more than a minute, men forgot they had eversuspected him. 

"When I was a little one, " said he, "my mother's aunt, who was anold hag, told me this tale. There was a pack of wolves that huntedin a forest near a village. In the village lived a man who wished tobe headman. Abdul was his name, and he had six sons. He wished to beheadman that he might levy toll among the villagers for the up-keepof his sons, who were hungry and very proud. Now Abdul was a cunninghunter, and his sons were strong. So he took thought, and chose aseason carefully, and set his sons to dig a great trap. And so wellhad Abdul chosen--so craftily the six sons digged--that one nightthey caught all that wolf-pack in the trap. And they kept them inthe trap two days and a night, that they might hunger and thirst andgrow amenable. 

"Then Abdul leaned above the pit, and peered down at the wolves andbegan to bargain with them. 'Wolves, ' said he, 'your fangs be longand your jaws be strong, and I wish to be headman of this village. 'And they answered, 'Speak, Abdul, for these walls be high, and ourthroats be dry, and we wish to hunt again!' So he bade them promisethat if he let them go they would seek and slay the present headmanand his sons, so that he might be headman in his place. And thewolves promised. Then when he had made them swear by a hundred oathsin a hundred different ways, and had bound them to keep faith by Godand by earth and sky and sea and by all the holy things he couldremember, he stood aside and bade his six sons free the wolves. 

"The sons obeyed, and helped the wolves out of the trap. Andinstantly the wolves fell on all six sons, and slew and devouredthem. Then they came and stood round Abdul with their jaws drippingwith blood. 

"'Oh, wolves, ' said he, trembling with fear and anger, 'ye aretraitors! Ye are forsworn! Ye are faithless ones!'

"But they answered him, 'Oh, Abdul, shall he who knows not falsefrom true judge treason?' and forthwith they slew him and devouredhim, and went about their business. 

"Now, which had the right of that--Abdul or the wolves?"

"We are no wolves!" said Gooja Singh in a whining voice. "We be truemen!"

"Then I will tell you another story, " Ranjoor Singh answered him. And we listened again, as men listen to the ticking of a clock. "This is a story the same old woman, my mother's aunt, told me whenI was very little. 

"There was a man--and this man's name also was Abdul--who owned agarden, and in it a fish-pond. But in the fish-pond were no fish. Abdul craved fish to swim hither and thither in his pond, but thoughhe tried times out of number he could catch none. Yet at fowling hehad better fortune, and when he was weary one day of fishing andlaid his net on land he caught a dozen birds. 

"'So-ho!' said Abdul, being a man much given to thought, and he wentabout to strike a bargain. 'Oh, birds, ' said he, 'are ye willing tobe fish? For I have no fishes swimming in my pond, yet my heartdesires them greatly. So if ye are willing to be fish and will stayin my good pond and swim there, gladdening my eyes, I will abstainfrom killing you but instead will set you in the pond and let youlive. '

"So the birds, who were very terrified, declared themselves willingto be fish, and the birds swore even more oaths than he insisted on, so that he was greatly pleased and very confident. Therefore he usednot very much precaution when he came to plunge the birds into thewater, and the instant he let go of them the birds with feathersscarcely wet flew away and perched on the trees about him. 

"Then Abdul grew very furious. 'Oh, birds, ' said he, 'ye aretraitors. Ye are forsworn! Ye are liars--breakers of oaths--deceitfulones!' And he shook his fist at them and spat, being greatly enragedand grieved at their deception. 

"But the birds answered him, 'Oh, Abdul, a captive's gyves and acaptive's oath are one, and he who rivets on the one must keep theother!' And the birds flew away, but Abdul went to seek his advocateto have the law of them! Now, what think ye was the advocate'sopinion in the matter, and what remedy had Abdul?"

Has the sahib ever seen three hundred men all at the same timebecoming conscious of the same idea? That is quite a spectacle. There was no whispering, nor any movement except a little shiftingof the feet. There was nothing on which a watchful man could lay afinger. Yet between one second and the next they were not the samemen, and I, who watched Ranjoor Singh's eyes as if he were myopponent in a duel, saw that he was aware of what had happened, although not surprised. But he made no sign except the shadow of onethat I detected, and he did not change his voice--as yet. 

"As for me, " he said, telling a tale again, "I wrote once on theseashore sand and signed my name beneath. A day later I came back tolook, but neither name nor words remained. I was what I had been, and stood where the sea had been, but what I had written in sandaffected me not, neither the sea nor any man. Thought I, if one hadlent me money on such a perishable note the courts would now holdhim at fault, not me; they would demand evidence, and all he couldshow them would be what he had himself bargained for. Now it occursto me that seashore sand, and the tricks of rogues, and blackmail, and tyranny perhaps are one!"

Eye met eye, all up and down both lines of men. There was swiftsearching of hearts, and some of the men at my end of the line begantalking in low tones. So I spoke up and voiced aloud what troubledthem. 

"If we sign this paper, sahib, " said I, "how do we know they willnot find means of bringing it to the notice of the British?"

"We do not know, " he answered. "Let us hope. Hope is a great goodthing. If they chained us, and we broke the chains, they might sendthe broken links to London in proof of what thieves we be. Who wouldgain by that?"

I saw a very little frown now and knew that he judged it time tostrike on the heated metal. But Gooja Singh turned his back onRanjoor Singh. 

"Let him sign this thing, " said he, "and let us sign our namesbeneath his name. Then he will be in the same trap with us all, andmust lead us out of it or perish with us!"

So Gooja Singh offered himself, all unintentionally, to be thescapegoat for us all and I have seldom seen a man so shocked by whatbefell him. Only a dozen words spoke Ranjoor Singh--yet it was as ifhe lashed him and left him naked. Whips and a good man's wrath areone. 

"Who gave thee leave to yelp?" said he, and Gooja Singh faced aboutlike a man struck. By order of the Germans he and I stood in theplace of captains on parade, he on the left and I on the right. 

"To your place!" said Ranjoor Singh. 

Gooja Singh stepped back into line with me, but Ranjoor Singh wasnot satisfied. 

"To your place in the rear!" he ordered. And so I have seen a manwho lost a lawsuit slink round a corner of the court. 

Then I spoke up, being stricken with self-esteem at the sight ofGooja Singh's shame (for I always knew him to be my enemy). 

"Sahib, " said I, "shall I pass down the line and ask each manwhether he will sign what the Germans ask?"

"Aye!" said he, "like the carrion crows at judgment! Halt!" heordered, for already I had taken the first step. "When I need tosend a havildar, " said he, "to ask my men's permission, I will callfor a havildar! To the rear where you belong!" he ordered. And Iwent round to the rear, knowing something of Gooja Singh'ssensations, but loving him no better for the fellow-feeling. When myfootfall had altogether ceased and there was silence in which onecould have heard an insect falling to the ground, Ranjoor Singhspoke again. "There has been enough talk, " said he. "In pursuance ofa plan, I intend to sign whatever the Germans ask. Those who prefernot to sign what I sign--fall out! Fall out, I say!"

Not a man fell out, sahib. But that was not enough for RanjoorSingh. 

"Those who intend to sign the paper, --two paces forward, --march!"said he. And as one man we took two paces forward. 

"So!" said he. "Right turn!" And we turned to the right. "Forward!Quick march!" he ordered. And he made us march twice in a squareabout him before he halted us again and turned us to the front toface him. Then he was fussy about our alignment, making us take upour dressing half a dozen times; and when he had us to hissatisfaction finally he stood eying us for several minutes beforeturning his back and striding with great dignity toward the gate. 

He talked through the gate and very soon a dozen Germans entered, led by two officers in uniform and followed by three soldierscarrying a table and a chair. The table was set down in their midst, facing us, and the senior German officer--in a uniform with a veryhigh collar--handed a document to Ranjoor Singh. When he hadfinished reading it to himself he stepped forward and read it aloudto us. It was in Punjabi, excellently rendered, and the gist of itwas like this:

We, being weary of British misrule, British hypocrisy, and Britisharrogance, thereby renounced allegiance to Great Britain, its kingand government, and begged earnestly to be permitted to fight on theside of the Central Empires in the cause of freedom. It wasexpressly mentioned, I remember, that we made this petition of ourown initiative and of our own free will, no pressure having beenbrought to bear on us, and nothing but kindness having been offeredus since we were taken prisoners. 

"That is what we are all required to sign, " said Ranjoor Singh, whenhe had finished reading, and he licked his lips in a manner I hadnever seen before. 

Without any further speech to us, he sat down at the table and wrotehis name with a great flourish on the paper, setting down his rankbeside his name. Then he called to me, and I sat and wrote my namebelow his, adding my rank also. And Gooja Singh followed me. Afterhim, in single file, came every surviving man of Outram's Own. Somemen scowled, and some men laughed harshly, and if one of our racehad been watching on the German behalf he would have been able totell them something. But the Germans mistook the scowls for signs ofanger at the British, and the laughter they mistook for risingspirits, so that the whole affair passed off without arousing theirsuspicion. 

Nevertheless, my heart warned me that the Germans would not trust aregiment seduced as we were supposed to have been. And, althoughRanjoor Singh had had his way with us, the very having had destroyedthe reawakening trust in him. The troopers felt that he had led themthrough the gates of treason. I could feel their thoughts as a manfeels the breath of coming winter on his cheek. 

When the last man had signed we stood at attention and a wagonloadof rifles was brought in, drawn by oxen. They gave a rifle to eachof us, and we were made to present arms while the German militaryoath was read aloud. After that the Germans walked away as if theyhad no further interest. Only Ranjoor Singh remained, and he gave usno time just then for comment or discontent. 

The mauser rifles were not so very much unlike our own, and he setus to drilling with them, giving us patient instruction but verylittle rest until evening. During the longest pause in the drill hesent for knapsacks and served us one each, filled down to thesmallest detail with everything a soldier could need, even to alittle cup that hung from a hook beneath one corner. We were utterlyworn out when he left us at nightfall, but there was a lot oftalking nevertheless before men fell asleep. 

"This is the second time he has trapped us in deadly earnest!" wasthe sum of the general complaint they hurled at me. And I had noanswer to give them, knowing well that if I took his part I shouldshare his condemnation--which would not help him; neither would ithelp them nor me. 

"My thought, of going to the mines and being troublesome, was best!"said I. "Ye overruled me. Now ye would condemn me for not preventingyou! Ye are wind blowing this way and that!"

They were so busy defending themselves to themselves against thatcharge that they said no more until sleep fell on them; and at dawnRanjoor Singh took hold of us again and made us drill until our feetburned on the gravel and our ears were full of the tramp--tramp--tramp, and the ek--do--tin of manual exercise. 

"Listen!" said he to me, when he had dismissed us for dinner, and Ilingered on parade. "Caution the men that any breach of disciplinewould be treated under German military law by drum-head courtmartial and sentence of death by shooting. Advise them to avoidindiscretions of any kind, " said he. 

So I passed among them, pretending the suggestion was my own, andthey resented it, as I knew they would. But I observed from aboutthat time they began to look on Ranjoor Singh as their only possibleprotector against the Germans, so that their animosity against himwas offset by self-interest. 

The next day came a staff officer who marched us to the station, where a train was waiting. Impossible though it may seem, sahib, toyou who listen, I felt sad when I looked back at the huts that hadbeen our prison, and I think we all did. We had loathed them withall our hearts all summer long, but now they represented what weknew and we were marching away from them to what we knew not, withautumn and winter brooding on our prospects. 

Not all our wounded had been returned to us; some had died in theGerman hospitals. . Two hundred-and-three-and-thirty of us all told, including Ranjoor Singh, lined up on the station platform--fit andwell and perhaps a little fatter than was seemly. 

Having no belongings other than the rifles and knapsacks and what westood in it took us but a few moments to entrain. Almost at once theengine whistled and we were gone, wondering whither. Some of thetroopers shouted to Ranjoor Singh to ask our destination, but heaffected not to hear. The German staff officer rode in the frontcompartment alone, and Ranjoor Singh rode alone in the next behindhim; but they conversed often through the window, and at stationswhere the two of them got out to stretch their legs along theplatform they might have been brothers-in-blood relating love-affairs. Our troopers wondered. 

"Our fox grows gray, " said they, "and his impudence increases. "

"Would it help us out of this predicament, " said I, "if he smotethat German in the teeth and spat on him?"

They laughed at that and passed the remark along from window towindow, until I roared at them to keep their heads in. There wereseven of us non-commissioned officers, and we rode in onecompartment behind the officers' carriage, Gooja Singh making muchunpleasantness because there was not enough room for us all to liefull length at once. We were locked into our compartment, and theonly chance we had of speaking with Ranjoor Singh was when theybrought us food at stations and he strode down the train to see thateach man had his share. 

"What is our destination?" we asked him then, repeatedly. 

"If ye be true men, " he answered, "why are ye troubled aboutdestination? Can the truth lead you into error? Do I seem afraid?"said he. 

That was answer enough if we had been the true men we claimed to be, and he gave us no other. So we watched the sun and tried to guessroughly, I recalling all the geography I ever knew, yet failing toreach conclusions that satisfied myself or any one. We knew thatTurkey was in the war, and we knew that Bulgaria was not. Yet wetraveled eastward, and southeastward. 

I know now that we traveled over the edge of Germany into Austria, through Austria into Hungary, and through a great part of Hungary tothe River Danube, growing so weary of the train that I for onelooked back to the Flanders trenches as to long-lost happiness!Every section of line over which we traveled was crowded withtraffic, and dozens of German regiments kept passing and re-passingus. Some cheered us and some were insulting, but all of themregarded us with more or less astonishment. 

The Austrians were more openly curious about us than the Germans hadbeen, and some of them tried to get into conversation, but this wasnot encouraged; when they climbed on the footboards to peer throughthe windows and ask us questions officers ordered them away. 

Of all the things we wondered at on that long ride, the Germanregiments impressed us most. Those that passed and repassed us weremostly artillery and infantry, and surely in all the world beforethere never were such regiments as those--with the paint worn offtheir cannon, and their clothes soiled, yet with an air about themof successful plunderers, confident to the last degree of arrogancein their own efficiency--not at all like British regiments, nor likeany others that I ever saw. It was Ranjoor Singh who drew myattention to the fact that regiments passing us in one directionwould often pass us again on their way back, sometimes within theday. 

"As shuttles in a loom!" said he. "As long as they can do that theycan fight on a dozen fronts. " His words set me wondering so that Idid not answer him. He was speaking through our carriage window andI stared out beyond him at a train-load of troops on the far side ofthe station. 

"One comes to us, " said I. I was watching a German sergeant, who haddragged his belongings from that train and was crossing toward us. 

"Aye!" said Ranjoor Singh, so that I knew now there had been purposein his visit. "Beware of him. " Then he unlocked the carriage doorand waited for the German. The German came, and cursed the man whobore his baggage, and halted before Ranjoor Singh, staring into hisface with a manner of impudence new to me. Ranjoor Singh spoke aboutten words to him in German and the sergeant there and then salutedvery respectfully. I noticed that the German staff officer waswatching all this from a little distance, and I think the sergeantcaught his eye. 

At any rate, the sergeant made his man throw the baggage through ourcompartment door. The man returned to the other train. The sergeantclimbed in next to me. Ranjoor Singh locked the door again, and bothtrains proceeded. When our train was beginning to gain speed thenewcomer shoved me in the ribs abruptly with his elbow--thus. 

"So much for knowing languages!" said he to me in fairly goodPunjabi. "Curse the day I ever saw India, and triple-curse thissystem of ours that enabled them to lay finger on me in a movingtrain and transfer me to this funeral procession! Curse you, andcurse this train, and curse all Asia!" Then he thrust me in the ribsagain, as if that were a method of setting aside formality. 

"You know Cawnpore?" said he, and I nodded. 

"You know the Kaiser-i-hind Saddle Factory?"

I nodded again, being minded to waste no words because of RanjoorSingh's warning. 

"I took a job as foreman there twenty years ago because the pay wasgood. I lived there fifteen years until I was full to the throat ofIndia--Indian food, Indian women, Indian drinks, Indian heat, Indiansmells, Indian everything. I hated it, and threw up the job in theend. Said I to myself, 'Thank God, ' said I, 'to see the last ofIndia. ' And I took passage on a German steamer and drank enoughGerman beer on the way to have floated two ships her size! AechtDeutches bier, you understand, " said he, nudging me in the ribs witheach word. Aecht means REAL, as distinguished from the export stuffin bottles. "I drank it by the barrel, straight off ice, and it wentto my head!

"That must be why I boasted about knowing Indian languages before Ihad been two hours in port. I was drunk, and glad to be home, and onthe lookout for another job to keep from starving; so I boasted Icould speak and write Urdu and Punjabi. That brought me employmentin an export house. But who would have guessed it would end in mybeing dragged away from my regiment to march with a lot of Sikhs?Eh? Who would have guessed it? There goes my regiment one way, andhere go I another! What's our destination? God knows! Who are you, and what are you? God neither knows nor cares! What's to be the endof this? The end of me, I expect--and all because I got drunk on theway home! It I get alive out of this, " said he, "I'll get drunk oncefor the glory of God and then never touch beer again!"

And he struck me on the thigh with his open palm. The noise was likepowder detonating, and the pain was acute. I cursed him in his teethand he grinned at me as if he and I were old friends. Little blueeyes he had, sahib--light blue, set in full red cheeks. There weremany little red veins crisscrossed under the skin of his face, andhis breath smelt of beer and tobacco. I judged he had the physicalstrength of a buffalo, although doubtless short of wind. 

He had very little hair. Such as he had was yellow, but clipped soshort that it looked white. His yellow mustache was turned up thusat either corner of his mouth; and the mouth was not unkind, notwithout good humor. 

"What is your name?" said I. 

"Tugendheim, " said he. "I am Sergeant Fritz Tugendheim, of the 281(Pappenheim) Regiment of Infantry, and would God I were with myregiment! What do they call you?"

"Hira Singh, " said I. 

"And your rank?"

"Havildar, " said I. 

"Oh-ho!" said he. "So you're all non-commissioned in here, are you?Seven of you, eh? Seven is a lucky number! Well---" He looked useach slowly in the face, narrowing his eyes so that we couldscarcely see them under the yellow lashes. "Well, " said he, "theywon't mistake me for any of you, nor any of you for me--not even ifI should grow whiskers!"

He laughed at that joke for about two minutes, slapping me on thethigh again and laughing all the louder when I showed my teeth. Thenhe drew out a flask of some kind of pungent spirits from his pocket, and offered it to me. When I refused he drank the whole of ithimself and flung the glass flask through the window. Then hesettled himself in the corner from which he had ousted me, put hisfeet on the edge of the seat opposite, and prepared to sleep. Butbefore very long our German staff officer shouted for him and hewent in great haste, a station official opening the door for him andlocking us in again afterward. He rode for hours with the staffofficer and Gooja Singh examined the whole of his kit, makingremarks on each piece, to the great amusement of us all. 

He came back before night to sleep in our compartment, but before hecame I had taken opportunity to pass word through the window to thetroopers in the carriage next behind. 

"Ranjoor Singh, " said I, "warns us all to be on guard against thisGerman. He is a spy set to overhear our talk. "

That word went all down the train from, window to window and it hadsome effect, for during all the days that followed Tugendheim wasnever once able to get between us and our thoughts, although hetried a thousand times. 

Night followed day, and day night. Our train crawled, and waited, and crawled, and waited, and we in our compartment grew weary to thedeath of Tugendheim. A thousand times I envied Ranjoor Singh alonewith his thoughts in the next compartment; and so far was he fromsuffering because of solitude that he seemed to keep more and moreapart from us, only passing swiftly down the train at meal-times tomake sure we all had enough to eat and that there were no sick. 

I reached the conclusion myself that we were being sent to fightagainst the Russians, and I know not what the troopers thought; theywere beginning to be like caged madmen. But suddenly we reached abroad river I knew must be the Danube and were allowed at last toleave the train. We were so glad to move about again that any newsseemed good news, and when Ranjoor Singh, after much talk with ourstaff officer and some other Germans, came and told us that Bulgariahad joined the war on the side of the Central Powers, we laughed andapplauded. 

"That means that our road lies open before us, " Ranjoor Singh saiddarkly. 

"Our road whither?" said I. 

"To Stamboul!" said he. 

"What are we to do at Stamboul?" asked Gooja Singh, and the staffofficer, whose name I never knew, heard him and came toward us. 

"At Stamboul, " said he, in fairly good Punjabi, "you will strike ablow beside our friends, the Turks. Not very far from Stamboul youshall be given opportunity for vengeance on the British. Thenext-to-the-last stage of your journey lies through Bulgaria, and thebeginning of it will be on that steamer. "

We saw the steamer, lying with its nose toward the bank. It was novery big one for our number, but they marched us to it, RanjoorSingh striding at our head as if all the world were unfolding beforehim, and all were his. We were packed on board and the steamerstarted at once, Ranjoor Singh and the staff officer sharing theupper part with the steamer's captain, and Tugendheim elbowing usfor room on the open deck. So we journeyed for a whole day and partof a night down the Danube, Tugendheim pointing out to me things Ishould observe along the route, but grumbling vastly at separationfrom his regiment. 

"You bloody Sikhs!" said he. "I would rather march with lice--yetwhat can I do? I must obey orders. See that castle!" There were manycastles, sahib, at bends and on hilltops overlooking the river. "They built that, " said he, "in the good old days before men everheard of Sikhs. Life was worth while in those days, and a man liveda lifetime with his regiment!"

"Ah!" said I, choosing not to take offense; for one fool can maketrouble that perhaps a thousand wise men can not still. If he hadthought, he must have known that we Sikhs spend a lifetime with ourregiments, and therefore know more about such matters than anyGerman reservist. But he was little given to thought, although notill-humored in intention. 

"Behold that building!" said he. "That looks like a brewery!Consider the sea of beer they brew there once a month, and thenthink of your oath of abstinence and what you miss!"

So he talked, ever nudging me in the ribs until I grew sore and myvery gorge revolted at his foolishness. So we sailed, passing alonga river that at another time would have delighted me beyond power ofspeech. A day and a night we sailed, our little steamer being one ofa fleet all going one way. Tugs and tugs and tugs there were, allpulling strings of barges. It was as if all the tugs and barges outof Austria were hurrying with all the plunder of Europe God knewwhither. 

"Whither are they taking all this stuff?" I asked Ranjoor Singh whenhe came down among us to inspect our rations. He and I stoodtogether at the stern, and I waved my arm to designate the fleet offloating things. We were almost the only troops, although there weresoldiers here and there on the tugs and barges, taking charge andsupervising. 

"To Stamboul, " said he. "Bulgaria is in. The road to Stamboul isopen. "

"Sahib, " said I, "I know you are true to the raj. I know thesurrender in Flanders was the only course possible for one to whomthe regiment had been entrusted. I know this business of taking theGerman side is all pretense. Are we on the way to Stamboul?"

"Aye, " said he. 

"What are we to do at Stamboul?" I asked him. 

"If you know all you say you know, " said he, "why let the futuretrouble you?"

"But---" said I. 

"Nay, " said he, "there can be no 'but. ' There is false and true. Theone has no part in the other. What say the men?"

"They are true to the raj, " said I. 

"All of them?" he asked. 

"Nay, sahib, " said I. "Not quite all of them, but almost all. "

He nodded. "We shall discover before long which are false and whichare true, " said he, and then he left me. 

So I told the men that we were truly on our way to Stamboul, andthere began new wondering and new conjecturing. The majority decidedat once that we were to be sent to Gallipoli to fight beside theTurks in the trenches there, and presently they all grew verydetermined to put no obstacle in the Germans' way but to go toGallipoli with good will. Once there, said they all, it should beeasy to cross to the British trenches under cover of the darkness. 

"We will take Ranjoor Singh with us, " they said darkly. "Then he canmake explanation of his conduct in the proper time and place!" I sawone man hold his turban end as if it were a bandage over his eyes, and several others snapped their fingers to suggest a firing party. Many of the others laughed. Men in the dark, thought I, are fools todo anything but watch and listen. Outlines change with the dawn, thought I, and I determined to reserve my judgment on all pointsexcept one--that I set full faith in Ranjoor Singh. But the men forthe most part had passed judgment and decided on a plan; so it cameabout that there was no trouble in the matter of getting them toStamboul--or Constantinople, as Europeans call it. 

At a place in Bulgaria whose name I have forgotten we disembarkedand became escort to a caravan of miscellaneous stores, proceedingby forced marches over an abominable road. And after I forget howmany days and nights we reached a railway and were once more packedinto a train. Throughout that march, although we traversed wildcountry where any or all of us might easily have deserted among themountains, Ranjoor Singh seemed so well to understand our intentionthat he scarcely troubled himself to call the roll. He sat alone bya little fire at night, and slept beside it wrapped in an overcoatand blanket. And when we boarded a train again he was once morealone in a compartment to himself. Once more I was compelled to sitnext to Tugendheim. 

I grew no fonder of Tugendheim, although he made many efforts toconvince me of his friendship, making many prophetic statements toencourage me. 

"Soon, " said he, "you shall have your bayonet in the belly of anEnglishman! You will be revenged im them for '57!" My grandfatherfought for the British in '57, sahib, and my father, who was littlemore than old enough to run, carried food to him where he lay on theRidge before Delhi, the British having little enough food at thattime to share among their friends. But I said nothing, andTugendheim thought I was impressed--as indeed I was. "You will needto fight like the devil, " said he, "for if they catch you they'llskin you!"

Partly he wished to discover what my thoughts were, and partly, Ithink, his intention was to fill me with fighting courage; and, since it would not have done to keep silence altogether, I began toproject the matter further and to talk of what might be after thewar should have been won. I made him believe that the hope of all usSikhs was to seek official employment under the German government;and he made bold to prophesy a good job for every one of us. Wespent hours discussing what nature of employment would best besuited to our genius, and he took opportunity at intervals to go tothe staff officer and acquaint him with all that I had said. By thetime we reached Stamboul at last I was more weary of him than anill-matched bullock of its yoke. 

But we did reach Stamboul in the end, on a rainy morning, andmarched wondering through its crooked streets, scarcely noticed bythe inhabitants. Men seemed afraid to look long at us, but glancedonce swiftly and passed on. German officers were everywhere, many ofthem driven in motor-cars at great speed through narrowthoroughfares, scattering people to right and left; the Turkishofficers appeared to treat them with very great respect--although Inoticed here and there a few who looked indifferent, andoccasionally others who seemed to me indignant. 

The mud, though not so bad as that in Flanders, was nearly asdepressing. The rain chilled the air, and shut in the view, and fewof us had very much sense of direction that first day in Stamboul. Tugendheim, marching behind us, kept up an incessant growl. RanjoorSingh, striding in front of us with the staff officer at his side, shook the rain from his shoulders and said nothing. 

We were marched to a ferry and taken across what I know now was theGolden Horn; and there was so much mist on the water that at timeswe could scarcely see the ferry. Many troopers asked me if we werenot already on our way to Gallipoli, and I, knowing no more thanthey, bade them wait and see. 

On the other side of the Golden Horn we were marched through narrowstreets, uphill, uphill, uphill to a very great barrack and given asection of it to ourselves. Ranjoor Singh was assigned privatequarters in a part of the building used by many German officers fortheir mess. Not knowing our tongue, those officers were obliged toconverse with him in English, and I observed many times with whatdistaste they did so, to my great amusement. I think Ranjoor Singhwas also much amused by that, for he grew far better humored andreadier to talk. 

Sahib, that barrack was like a zoo--like the zoo I saw once atBaroda, with animals of all sorts in it!--a great yellow buildingwithin walls, packed with Kurds and Arabs and Syrians of moredifferent tribes than a man would readily believe existed in thewhole world. Few among them could talk any tongue that we knew, butthey were full of curiosity and crowded round us to ask questions;and when Gooja Singh shouted aloud that we were Sikhs from Indiathey produced a man who seemed to think he knew about Sikhs, for hestood on a step and harangued them for ten minutes, they listeningwith all their ears. 

Then came a Turk from the German officers' mess--we were allstanding in the rain in an open court between four walls--and hetold them truly who we were. Doubtless he added that we were inrevolt against the British, for they began to welcome us, shoutingand dancing about us, those who could come near enough taking ourhands and saying things we could not understand. 

Presently they found a man who knew some English, and, urged bythem, he began to fill our ears with information. During our trainjourney I had amused myself for many weary hours by askingTugendheim for details of the fighting he had seen and by listeningto the strings of lies he thought fit to narrate. But whatTugendheim had told were almost truths compared to this man'sstories; in place of Tugendheim's studied vagueness there was detailin such profusion that I can not recall now the hundredth part ofit. 

He told us the British fleet had long been rusting at the bottom ofthe sea, and that all the British generals and half the army wereprisoners in Berlin. Already the British were sending tribute moneyto their conquerors, and the principal reason why the war continuedwas that the British could not find enough donkeys to carry all thegold to Berlin, and to prevent trickery of any kind the fightingmust continue until the last coin should have been counted. 

The British and French, he told us, were all to be compelled, at thepoint of the sword, to turn Muhammadan, and France was being scouredthat minute for women to grace the harems of the kaiser and his sonsand generals, all of whom had long ago accepted Islam. The kaiser, indeed, had become the new chief of Islam. 

I asked him about the fighting in Gallipoli, and lie said that was abagatelle. "When we shall have driven the remnants of those thereinto the sea, " said he, "one part of us will march to conquer Egyptand the rest will be sent to garrison England and France. "

When he had done and we were all under cover at last I repeated tothe men all that this fool had said, and they were very muchencouraged; for they reasoned that if the Turks and Germans neededto fill up their men with such lies as those, then they must have apoor case indeed. With our coats off, and a meal before us, and themud and rain for-gotten, we all began to feel almost happy; andwhile we were in that mood Ranjoor Singh came to us with Tugendheimat his heels. 

"The plan now is to keep us here a week, " said he. "After that tosend us to Gallipoli by steamer. "

Sahib, there was uproar! Men could scarcely eat for the joy ofgetting in sight of British lines again--or rather for joy of thepromise of it. They almost forgot to suspect Ranjoor Singh in thatminute, but praised him to his face and even made much ofTugendheim. 

But I, who followed Ranjoor Singh between the tables in case heshould have any orders to give, noticed particularly that he did notsay we were going to Gallipoli. He said, "The plan now is to send usto Gallipoli. " The trade of a leader of squadrons, thought I, is toconfound the laid plans of the enemy and to invent unexpected onesof his own. 

"The day we land in Gallipoli behind the Turkish trenches, " said Ito myself, "is unlikely to be yet if Ranjoor Singh lives. "

And I was right, sahib. But If I had been given a thousand years inwhich to do it, I never could have guessed how Ranjoor Singh wouldlead us out of the trap. Can the sahib guess?

CHAPTER IV

Fear comes and goes, but a man's love lives with him. --EASTERN PROVERB. 

Stamboul was disillusionment--a city of rain and plagues and stinks!The food in barracks was maggoty. We breathed foul air and yearnedfor the streets; yet, once in the streets, we yearned to be back inbarracks. Aye, sahib, we saw more in one day of the streets than wethought good for us, none yet understanding the breadth of RanjoorSingh's wakefulness. He seemed to us like a man asleep in goodopinion of himself--that being doubtless the opinion he wished theGerman officers to have of him. 

Part of the German plan became evident at once, for, noticing ourgreat enthusiasm at the prospect of being sent to Gallipoli, Tugendheim, in the hope of winning praise, told a German officer weought to be paraded through the streets as evidence that Indiantroops really were fighting with the Central Powers. The Germanofficer agreed instantly, Tugendheim making faces thus and brushinghis mustache more fiercely upward. 

So the very first morning after our arrival we were paraded earlyand sent out with a negro band, to tramp back and forth through thestreets until nearly too weary to desire life. Ranjoor Singh marchedat our head looking perfectly contented, for which the men all hatedhim, and beside him went a Turk who knew English and who told himthe names of streets and places. 

It did not escape my observation that Ranjoor Singh was interestedmore than a little in the waterfront. But we all tramped like dumbmen, splashed to the waist with street dirt, aware we were beingused to make a mental impression on the Turks, but afraid to refuseobedience lest we be not sent to Gallipoli after all. One thoughtobsessed every single man but me: To get to Gallipoli, and escape tothe British trenches during some dark night, or perish in theeffort. 

As for me, I kept open mind and watched. It is the non-commissionedofficer's affair to herd the men for his officer to lead. To haveargued with them or have suggested alternative possibilities wouldhave been only to enrage them and make them deaf to wise counselswhen the proper time should come. And, besides, I knew no more whatRanjoor Singh had in mind than a dead man knows of the weather. Wemarched through the streets, and marched, stared at silently, neither cheered nor mocked by the inhabitants; and Ranjoor Singharrived at his own conclusions. Five several times during that oneday he halted us in the mud at a certain place along the water-front, although there was a better place near by; and while werested he asked peculiar questions, and the Turk boasted to him, explaining many things. 

We were exhausted when it fell dark and we climbed up the hill againto barracks. Yet as we entered the barrack gate I heard RanjoorSingh tell a German officer in English that we had all greatlyenjoyed our view of the city and the exercise. I repeated what I hadheard while the men were at supper, and they began to wondergreatly. 

"Such a lie!" said they. 

"That surely was a lie?" I asked, and they answered that the man whotruly had enjoyed such tramping to and fro was no soldier but amud-fish. 

"Then, if he lies to them, " I said, "perhaps he tells us the truthafter all. "

They howled at me, calling me a man without understanding. Yet whenI went away I left them thinking, each man for himself, and that wasgood. I went to change the guard, for some of our men were put onsentry-go that night outside the officers' quarters, in spite of ourutter weariness. We were smarter than the Kurds, and German officerslike smartness. 

Weary though Ranjoor Singh must have been, he sat late with theGerman officers, for the most part keeping silence while theytalked. I made excuse to go and speak with him half a dozen times, and the last time I could hardly find him among the wreaths ofcigarette smoke. 

"Sahib, must we really stay a week in this hole?" I asked. "So saythe Germans, " said he. 

"Are we to be paraded through the streets each day?" I asked. 

"I understand that to be the plan, " he answered. 

"Then the men will mutiny!" said I. 

"Nay!" said he, "let them seek better cause than that!"

"Shall I tell them so?" said I, and he looked into my eyes throughthe smoke as if he would read down into my very heart. 

"Aye!" said he at last. "You may tell them so!"

So I went and shook some of the men awake and told them, and whenthey had done being angry they laughed at me. Then those awoke theothers, and soon they all had the message. On the whole, itbewildered them, even as it did me, so that few dared offer anopinion and each began thinking for himself again. By morning theywere in a mood to await developments. They were even willing totramp the streets; but Ranjoor Singh procured us a day's rest. Hehimself spent most of the day with the German officers, poring overmaps and talking. I went to speak with him as often as I couldinvent excuse, and I became familiar with the word Wassmuss thatthey used very frequently. I heard the word so many times that Icould not forget it if I tried. 

The next day Ranjoor Singh had a surprise for us. At ten in themorning we were all lined up in the rain and given a full month'spay. It was almost midday when the last man had received his money, and when we were dismissed and the men filed in to dinner RanjoorSingh bade me go among them and ask whether they did not wishopportunity to spend their money. 

So I went and asked the question. Only a few said yes. Manypreferred to keep their money against contingencies, and somethought the question was a trick and refused to answer it at all. Ireturned to Ranjoor Singh and told him what they answered. 

"Go and ask them again!" said he. 

So I went among them again as they lay on the cots after dinner, andmost of them jeered at me for my pains. I went and found RanjoorSingh in the officers' mess and told him. 

"Ask them once more!" said he. 

This third time, being in no mood to endure mockery, I put thequestion with an air of mystery. They asked what the hidden meaningmight be, but I shook my head and repeated the question with asmile, as if I knew indeed but would not tell. 

"Says Ranjoor Singh, " said I, "would the men like opportunity tospend their money?"

"No!" said most of them, and Gooja Singh asked how long it wellmight be before we should see money again. 

"Shall I bear him, a third time, such an answer?" I asked, lookingmore mysterious than ever. And just then it happened that GoojaSingh remembered the advice to seek better cause for mutiny. Hedrummed on his teeth with his fingernails. 

"Very well!" said he. "Tell him we will either spend our money orlet blood! Let us see what he says to that!"

"Shall I say, " said I, "that Gooja Singh says so?"

"Nay, nay!" said he, growing anxious. "Let that be the regiment'sanswer. Name no names!"

I thought it a foolish answer, given by a fool, but the men were inthe mood to relish it and began to laugh exceedingly. 

"Shall I take that answer?" said I, and they answered "Yes!"redoubling their emphasis when I objected. "The Germans do RanjoorSingh's thinking for him these days, " said one man; "take thatanswer and let us see what the Germans have to say to it through hismouth!"

So I went and told Ranjoor Singh, whispering to him in a corner ofthe officers' mess. Some Turks had joined the Germans and most ofthem were bending over maps that a German officer had spread upon atable in their midst; he was lecturing while the others listened. Ranjoor Singh had been listening, too, but he backed into a corneras I entered, and all the while I was whispering to him I kepthearing the word Wassmuss--Wassmuss--Wassmuss. The German who waslecturing explained something about this Wassmuss. 

"What is Wassmuss?" I asked, when I had given Ranjoor Singh themen's answer. He smiled into my eyes. 

"Wassmuss is the key to the door, " said he. 

"To which door?" I asked him. 

"There is only one, " he answered. 

"Shall I tell that to the men?" said I. 

At that he began scowling at me, stroking his beard with one hand. Then he stepped back and forth a time or two. And when he saw withthe corner of his eye that he had the senior German officer'sattention he turned on me and glared again. There was sudden silencein the room, and I stood at attention, striving to look like a manof wood. 

"It is as I said, " said he in English. "It was most unwise to paythem. Now the ruffians demand liberty to go and spend--and thatmeans license! They have been prisoners of war in close confinementtoo long. You should have sent them to Gallipoli before they tastedmoney or anything else but work! Who shall control such men now!"

The German officer stroked his chin, eying Ranjoor Singh sternly, yet I thought irresolutely. 

"If they would be safer on board a steamer, that can be managed. Asteamer came in to-day, that would do, " said he, speaking inEnglish, perhaps lest the Turks understand. "And there isTugendheim, of course. Tugendheim could keep watch on board. "

I think he had more to say, but at that minute Ranjoor Singh choseto turn on me fiercely and order me out of the room. 

"Tell them what you have heard!" he said in Punjabi, as if he werebiting my head off, and I expect the German officer believed he hadcursed me. I saluted and ran, and one of the Turkish officers aimeda kick at me as I passed. It was by the favor of God that the kickmissed, for had he touched me I would have torn his throat out, andthen doubtless I should not have been here to tell what RanjoorSingh did. To this day I do not know whether he had every moveplanned out in his mind, or whether part was thinking and part goodfortune. When a good man sets himself to thinking, God puts thoughtsinto his heart that others can not overcome, and it may be that hesimply prayed. I know not--although I know he prayed often, as atrue Sikh should. 

I told the men exactly what had passed, except that I did not sayRanjoor Singh had bidden me do so. I gave them to understand that Iwas revealing a secret, and that gave them greater confidence in myloyalty to them. It was important they should not suspect me ofallegiance to Ranjoor Singh. 

"It is good!" said they all, after a lot of talking and very littlethought. "To be sent on board a steamer could only mean Gallipoli. There we will make great show of ferocity and bravery, so that theywill send us to the foremost trenches. It should be easy to stealacross by night to the British trenches, dragging Ranjoor Singh withus, and when we are among friends again let him give what account ofhimself he may! What new shame is this, to tell the Germans we willmake trouble because we have a little money at last! Let the shamereturn to roost on him!"

They began to make ready there and then, and while they packed theknapsacks I urged them to shout and laugh as if growing mutinous. Soldiers, unless prevented, load themselves like pack animals with ahundred unnecessary things, but none of us had more than the fullkit for each man that the Germans had served out, so that packingtook no time at all. An hour after we were ready came Ranjoor Singh, standing in the door of our quarters with that senior German officerbeside him, both of them scowling at us, and the German making morethan a little show of possessing a repeating pistol. So that GoojaSingh made great to-do about military compliments, rebuking severaltroopers in loud tones for not standing quickly to attention, andshouting to me to be more strict. I let him have his say. 

Angrily as a gathering thunder-storm Ranjoor Singh ordered us tofall in, and we scrambled out through the doorway like a pack ofhunting hounds released. No word was spoken to us by way ofexplanation, Ranjoor Singh continuing to scowl with folded armswhile the German officer went back to look the quarters over, perhaps to see whether we had done damage, or perhaps to makecertain nothing had been left. He came out in a minute or two andthen we were marched out of the barrack in the dimming light, withTugendheim in full marching order falling into step behind us andthe senior German officer smoking a cigar beside Ranjoor Singh. AKurdish soldier carried Tugendheim's bag of belongings, andTugendheim kicked him savagely when he dropped it in a pool of mud. I thought the Kurd would knife him, but he refrained. 

I think I have said, sahib, that the weather was vile. We were gladof our overcoats. As we marched along the winding road downhill wekept catching glimpses of the water-front through driving rain, light after light appearing as the twilight gathered. Nobody noticedus. There seemed to be no one in the streets, and small wonder!

Before we were half-way down toward the water there began to be avery great noise of firing, of big and little cannon and rifles. There began to be shouting, and men ran back and forth below us. Iasked Tugendheim what it all might mean, and he said probably aBritish submarine had shown itself. I whispered that to the nearestmen and they passed the word along. Great contentment grew among us, none caring after that for rain and mud. That was the nearest we hadbeen to friends in oh how many months--if it truly were a Britishsubmarine!

We reached the water-front presently and were brought to a halt inexactly the place where Ranjoor Singh had halted us those five timeson the day we tramped the streets. We faced a dock that had beenvacant two days ago, but where now a little steamer lay moored withropes, smoke coming from its funnel. There was no other sign oflife, but when the German officer shouted about a dozen times theTurkish captain came ashore, wrapped in a great shawl, and spoke tohim. 

While they two spoke I asked Ranjoor Singh whether that truly hadbeen a British submarine, and he nodded; but he was not able to tellme whether or not it had been hit by gun-fire. Some of the menoverheard, and although we all knew that our course to Gallipoliwould be the more hazardous in that event we all prayed that theartillery might have missed. Fear comes and goes, but a man's lovelives in him. 

When the Turkish captain and the German officer finished speaking, the Turk went back to his steamer without any apparent pleasure, andwe were marched up the gangway after him. It was pitch-dark by thattime and the only light was that of a lantern by which the Germanofficer stood, eying us one by one as we passed. Tugendheim camelast, and he talked with Tugendheim for several minutes. Then hewent away, but presently returned with, I should say, half a companyof Kurdish soldiers, whom he posted all about the dock. Then hedeparted finally, with a wave of his cigar, as much as to say thatsheet of the ledger had been balanced. 

It was a miserable steamer, sahib. We stood about on iron decks andgrew hungry. There were no awnings--nothing but the superstructureof the bridge, and, although there were but two-hundred-and-thirty-fourof us, including Tugendheim, we could not stow ourselves sothat all could be sheltered from the rain and let the mud cake dryon our legs and feet. There was a little cabin that Tugendheim tookfor himself, but Ranjoor Singh remained with us on deck. He stood inthe rain by the gangway, looking first at one thing, then atanother. I watched him. 

Presently he went to the door of the engine-room, opened it, andlooked through. I was about to look, too, but he shut it in my face. 

"It is enough that they make steam?" said he; and I looked up at thefunnel and saw steam mingled with the smoke. In a little wheel-houseon the bridge the Turkish captain sat on a shelf, wrapped in hisshawl, smoking a great pipe, and his mate, who was also a Turk, satbeside him staring at the sky. I asked Ranjoor Singh whether wemight expect to have the whole ship to ourselves. Said I, "It wouldnot be difficult to overpower those two Turks and their small crewand make them do our bidding!" But he answered that a regiment ofKurds was expected to keep us company at dawn. Then he went up tothe bridge to have word with the Turkish captain, and I went to theship's side to stare about. Over my shoulder I told the men aboutthe Kurds who were coming, and they were not pleased. 

Peering into the dark and wondering that so great a city as Stamboulshould show so few lights, I observed the Kurdish sentinels postedabout the dock. 

"Those are to prevent us from going ashore until their friendscome!" said I, and they snarled at me like angry wolves. 

"We could easily rush ashore and bayonet every one of them!" saidGooja Singh. 

But not a man would have gone ashore again for a commission in theGerman army. Gallipoli was written in their hearts. Yet I couldthink of a hundred thousand chances still that might prevent ourjoining our friends the British in Gallipoli. Nor was I sure in myown mind that Ranjoor Singh intended we should try. I was sure onlyof his good faith, and content to wait developments. 

Though the lights of the city were few and very far between, so manysearch-lights played back and forth above the water that thereseemed a hundred of them. I judged it impossible for the smallestboat to pass unseen and I wondered whether it was difficult or easyto shoot with great guns by aid of search-lights, remembering whatstrange tricks light can play with a gunner's eyes. Mist, too, keptrising off the water to add confusion. 

While I reflected in that manner, thinking that the shadow of everywave and the side of every boat might be a submarine, Ranjoor Singhcame down from the bridge and stood beside me. 

"I have seen what I have seen!" said he. "Listen! Obey! And give meno back answers!"

"Sahib, " said I, "I am thy man!" But he answered nothing to that. 

"Pick the four most dependable men, " he said, "and bid them enterthat cabin and gag and bind Tugendheim. Bid them make no noise andsee to it that he makes none, but let them do him no injury, for weshall need him presently! When that is done, come back to me here!"

So I left him at once, he standing as I had done, staring at thewater, although I thought perhaps there was more purpose in his gazethan there had been in mine. 

I chose four men and led them aside, they greatly wondering. 

"There is work to be done, " said I, "that calls for true ones!"

"Such men be we!" said all four together. 

"That is why I picked you from among the rest!" said I, and theywere well pleased at that. Then I gave them their orders. 

"Who bids us do this?" they demanded. 

"I!" said I. "Bind and gag Tugendheim, and we have Ranjoor Singhcommitted. He gave the order, and I bid you obey it! How can he befalse to us and true to the Germans, with a gagged German prisoneron his hands?"

They saw the point of that. "But what if we are discovered toosoon?" said they. 

"What if we are sunk before dawn by a British submarine!" said I. "We will swim when we find ourselves in water! For the present, bindand gag Tugendheim!"

So they went and stalked Tugendheim, the German, who had beendrinking from a little pocket flask. He was drowsing in a chair inthe cabin, with his hands deep down in his overcoat pockets and hishelmet over his eyes. Within three minutes I was back at RanjoorSingh's side. 

"The four stand guard over him!" said I. 

"Very good!" said he. "That was well done! Now do a greater thing. "

My heart burned, sahib, for I had once dared doubt him, yet all hehad to say to me was, "Well done! Now do a greater thing!" If he hadcursed me a little for my earlier unbelief I might have felt lessashamed!

"Go to the men, " said he, "and bid those who wish the British wellto put all the money they received this morning into a cloth. Bidthose who are no longer true to the British to keep their money. When the money is all in the cloth, bring it here to me. "

"But what if they refuse?" said I. 

"Do YOU refuse?" he asked. 

"Nay!" said I. "Nay, sahib!"

"Then why judge them?" said he. So I went. 

Can the sahib imagine it? Two-hundred-and-three-and-thirty men, including non-commissioned officers, wet and muddy in the dark, beginning to be hungry, all asked at once to hand over all their payif they be true men, but told to keep it if they be traitors!

No man answered a word, although their eyes burned up the darkness. I called for a lantern, and a man brought one from the engine-roomdoor. By its light I spread out a cloth, and laid all my money on iton the deck. The sergeant nearest me followed my example. GoojaSingh laid down only half his money. 

"Nay!" said I. "All or none! This is a test for true men! Half-trueand false be one and the same to-night!" So Gooja Singh made a wryface and laid down the rest of his money, and the others allfollowed him, not at all understanding, as indeed I myself did notunderstand, but coming one at a time to me and laying all theirmoney on the cloth. When the last man had done I tied the fourcorners of the cloth together (it was all wet with the rain andslush on deck, and heavy with the weight of coin) and carried it toRanjoor Singh. (I forgot the four who stood guard over Tugendheim;they kept their money. )

"We are all true men!" said I, dumping it beside him. 

"Good!" said he. "Come!" And he took the bundle of money andascended the bridge ladder, bidding me wait at the foot of it forfurther orders. I stood there two hours without another sign of him, although I heard voices in the wheel-house. 

Now the men grew restless. Reflection without action made them beginto doubt the wisdom of surrendering all their money at a word. Theybegan to want to know the why and wherefore of the business, and Iwas unable to tell them. 

"Wait and see!" said I, but that only exasperated them, and somebegan to raise their voices in anger. So I felt urged to invent areason, hoping to explain it away afterward should I be wrong. Butas it turned out I guessed at least a little part of Ranjoor Singh'sgreat plan and so achieved great credit that was useful later, although at the time I felt myself losing favor with them. 

"Ranjoor Singh will bribe the captain of the ship to steam awaybefore that regiment of Kurds can come on board, " said I. "So weshall have the ship at our mercy, provided we make no mistakes. "

That did not satisfy them, but it gave them something new to thinkabout, and they settled down to wait in silence, as many as couldcrowding their backs against the deck-house and the rest sufferingin the rain. I would rather have heard them whispering, because Ijudged the silence to be due to low spirits. I knew of nothing moreto say to encourage them, and after a time their depression began toaffect me also. Rather than watch them, I watched the water, andmore than once I saw something I did not recognize, thatnevertheless caused my skin to tingle and my breath to come injerks. Sikh eyes are keen. 

It was perhaps two hours before midnight when the long spell offiring along the water-front began and I knew that my eyes and thedark had not deceived me. All the search-lights suddenly swepttogether to one point and shone on the top-side of a submarine--orat least on the water thrown up by its top-side. Only two masts anda thing like a tower were visible, and the plunging shells threwwater over those obscuring them every second. There was a greatexplosion, whether before or after the beginning of the gun-fire Ido not remember, and a ship anchored out on the water no greatdistance from us heeled over and began to sink. One search-light wasturned on the sinking ship, so that I could see hundreds of men onher running to and fro and jumping; but all the rest of the waterwas now left in darkness. 

The guards who had been set to prevent our landing all ran toanother wharf to watch the gun-fire and the sinking ship, and it wasat the moment when their backs were turned that two Turkish seamencame down from the bridge and loosed the ropes that held us to theshore. Then our ship began to move out slowly into the darknesswithout showing lights or sounding whistle. There was still no signof Ranjoor Singh, nor had I time to look for him; I was busy makingthe men be still, urging, coaxing, cursing--even striking them. 

"Are we off to Gallipoli?" they asked. 

"We are off to where a true man may remember the salt!" said I, knowing no more than they. 

I know of nothing more confusing to a landsman, sahib, than acrowded harbor at night. The many search-lights all quivering andshifting in the one direction only made confusion worse and we hadnot been moving two minutes when I no longer knew north from southor east from west. I looked up, to try to judge by the stars. I hadactually forgotten it was raining. The rain came down in sheets andoverhead the sky began at little more than arm's length! Judge, then, my excitement. 

We passed very close to several small steamers that may have beenwar-ships, but I think they were merchant ships converted intogunboats to hunt submarines. I think, too, that in the darkness theymistook us for another of the same sort, for, although we almostcollided with two of them, they neither fired on us nor challenged. We steamed straight past them, beginning to gain speed as the lastone fell away behind. 

Does the sahib remember whether the passage from Stamboul into theSea of Marmora runs south or east or west? Neither could I remember, although at another time I could have drawn a map of it, havingstudied such things. But memory plays us strange tricks, andcavalrymen were never intended to maneuver in a ship! Ranjoor Singh, up in the wheel-house, had a map--a good map, that he had stolenfrom the German officers--but I did not know that until later. Istood with both hands holding the rails of the bridge ladderwondering whether gunfire or submarine would sink us and urging themen to keep their heads below the bulwark lest a search-light findus and the number of heads cause suspicion. 

I have often tried to remember just how many hours we steamed fromStamboul, yet I have no idea to this day beyond that the voyage wasended before dawn. It was all unexpected--we were too excited, andtoo fearful for our skins to recall the passage of hours. It wasdarker than I have ever known night to be, and the short waves thatmade our ship pitch unevenly were growing steeper every minute, whenRanjoor Singh came at last to the head of the ladder and shouted forme. I went to him up the steps, holding to each rail for dear life. 

"Take twenty men, " he ordered, "and uncover the forward hatch. Throwthe hatch coverings overboard. The hold is full of cartridges. Bringup some boxes and break them open. Distribute two hundred rounds toevery man, and throw the empty boxes overboard. Then get up twentymore boxes and place them close together, in readiness to take withus when we leave the ship. Let me know when that is all done. "

So I took twenty men and we obeyed him. Two hundred rounds ofcartridges a man made a heavy extra load and the troopers grumbled. 

"Can we swim with these?" they demanded. 

"Who knows until he has tried?" said I. 

"How far may we have to march with such an extra weight?" said they. 

"Who knows!" said I, counting out two hundred more to another man. "But the man, " I said, "who lacks one cartridge of the full countwhen I come to inspect shall be put to the test whether he can swimat all!"

Some of them had begun to throw half of their two hundred into thewater, but after I said that they discontinued, and I noticed thatthose who had so done came back for more cartridges, pretending thatmy count had been short. So I served them out more and said nothing. There were hundreds of thousands of rounds in the hold of the ship, and I judged we could afford to overlook the waste. 

At last we set the extra twenty boxes in one place together, slipping and falling in the process because the deck was wet and theship unsteady; and then I went and reported to Ranjoor Singh. 

"Very good, " said he. "Make the men fall in along the deck, and bidthem be ready for whatever may befall!"

"Are we near land, sahib?" said I. 

"Very near!" said he. 

I ran to obey him, peering into the blackness to discover land, butI could see nothing more than the white tops of waves, and cloudsthat seemed to meet the sea within a rope's length of us. Once ortwice I thought I heard surf, but the noise of the rain and of theengines and of the waves pounding against the ship confused my ears, so that I could not be certain. 

When the men were all fallen in I went and leaned over the bulwarkto try to see better; and as I did that we ran in under a cliff, forthe darkness grew suddenly much darker. Then I surely heard surf. Then another sound startled me, and a shock nearly threw me off myfeet. I faced about, to find twenty or thirty men sprawling theirlength upon the deck, and when I had urged and helped them up theengines had stopped turning, and steam was roaring savagely throughthe funnel. The motion of the ship was different now; the front partseemed almost still, but the behind part rose and fell jerkily. 

I busied myself with the men, bullying them into silence, for Ijudged it most important to be able to hear the first order thatRanjoor Singh might give; but he gave none just yet, although Iheard a lot of talking on the bridge. 

"Is this Gallipoli?" the men kept asking me in whispers. 

"If it were, " said I, "we should have been blown to little pieces bythe guns of both sides before now!" If I had been offered all theworld for a reward I could not have guessed our whereabouts, norwhat we were likely to do next, but I was very sure we had notreached Gallipoli. 

Presently the Turkish seamen began lowering the boats. There werebut four boats, and they made clumsy work of it, but at last allfour boats were in the water; and then Ranjoor Singh began at lastto give his orders, in a voice and with an air that broughtreassurance. No man could command, as he did who had the leastlittle doubt in his heart of eventual success. There is even moreconviction in a true man's voice than in his eye. 

He ordered us overside eight at a time, and me in the first boatwith the first eight. 

"Fall them in along the first flat place you find on shore, and waitthere for me!" said he. And I said, "Ha, sahib!" wondering as Iswung myself down a swaying rope whether my feet could ever find theboat. But the sailors pulled the rope's lower end, and I foundmyself in a moment wedged into a space into which not one more mancould have been crowded. 

The waves broke over us, and there was a very evil surf, but thedistance to the shore was short and the sailors proved skilful. Welanded safely on a gravelly beach, not so very much wetter than wehad been, except for our legs (for we waded the last few yards), andI hunted at once for a piece of level ground. Just thereabouts itwas all nearly level, so I fell my eight men in within twenty yardsof the surf, and waited. I felt tempted to throw out pickets yetafraid not to obey implicitly. Ranjoor Singh given no order aboutpickets. 

I judge it took more than an hour, and it may have been two hours, to bring all the men and the twenty boxes of cartridges ashore. Atlast in three boats came the captain of the ship, and the mate, andthe engineer, and nearly all the crew. Then I grew suddenly afraidand hot sweat burst out all over me, for by the one lantern that hadbeen hung from the ship's bridge rail to guide the rowers I couldsee that the ship was moving! The ship's captain had climbed out ofthe last boat and was standing close to it. I went up to him andseized his shoulder. 

"What dog's work is this?" said I. "Speak!" I said, shaking him, although he could not talk any tongue that I knew--but I shook himnone-the-less until his teeth chattered, and, his arms being wrappedin that great shawl of his, there was little he could do to preventme. 

As I live, sahib, on the word of a Sikh I swear that not even inthat instant did I doubt Ranjoor Singh. I believed that the Turkishcaptain might have stabbed him, or that Tugendheim might have playedsome trick. But not so the men. They saw the lantern receding andreceding, dancing with the motion of the ship, and they believedthemselves deserted. 

"Quick! Fire on him!" shouted some one. "Let him not escape! Killhim before he is out of range!"

I never knew which trooper it was who raised that cry, although Iwent to some trouble to discover afterward. But I heard Gooja Singhlaugh like a hyena; and I heard the click of cartridges being thrustinto magazines. I was half minded to let them shoot, hoping theymight hit Tugendheim. But the Turk freed his arms at last, and beganstruggling. 

"Look!" he said to me in English. "VOILA!" said he in French. "REGARDEZ! Look--see!"

I did look, and I saw enough to make me make swift decision. Thelight was nearer to the water--quite a lot nearer. I flung myself onthe nearest trooper, whose rifle was already raised, and taken bysurprise he loosed his weapon. With it I beat the next ten men'srifles down, and they clattered on the beach. That made the otherspause and look at me. 

"The man who fires the first shot dies!" said I, striving to makethe breath come evenly between my teeth for sake of dignity, yetwith none too great success. But in the principal matter I wassuccessful, for they left their alignment and clustered round toargue with me. At that I refused to have speech with them until theyshould have fallen in again, as befitted soldiers. Falling in tooktime, especially as they did it sulkily; and when the noise ofshifting feet was finished I heard oars thumping in the oar-locks. 

A boat grounded amid the surf, and Ranjoor Singh jumped out of it, followed by Tugendheim and his four guards. The boat's crew leapedinto the water and hauled the boat high and dry, and as they didthat I saw the ship's lantern disappear altogether. 

Ranjoor Singh went straight to the Turkish captain. "Your money, "said he, speaking in English slowly--I wonder, sahib, oh, I havewondered a thousand times in what medley of tongues strange to allof them they had done their bargaining!--"Your money, " said he, "isin the boat in which I came. Take it, and take your men, and go!"

The captain and his crew said nothing, but got into the boats andpushed away. One of the boats was overturned in the surf, and therethey left it, the sailors scrambling into the other boats. They wereout of sight and sound in two minutes. Then Ranjoor Singh turned tome. 

"Send and gather fire-wood!" he ordered. 

"Where shall dry wood be in all this rain?" said I. 

"Search!" said he. 

"Sahib, " said I, "a fire would only betray our whereabouts. "

"Are you deaf?" said he. 

"Nay!" I said. 

"Then obey!" said he. So I took twenty men, and we went stumblingthrough rain and darkness, hunting for what none of us believed wasanywhere. Yet within fifteen minutes we found a hut whose roof wasintact, and therefore whose floor and inner parts were dry enough. It was a little hut, of the length of perhaps the height of fourmen, and the breadth of the height of three--a man and a half highfrom floor to roof-beam. It was unoccupied, but there was straw atone end--dry straw, on which doubtless guards had slept. I left themen standing there and went and told Ranjoor Singh. 

I found him talking to the lined up men in no gentle manner. As Idrew nearer I heard him say the word "Wassmuss. " Then I heard atrooper ask him, "Where are we?" And he answered, "Ye stand onAsia!" That was the first intimation I received that we were inAsia, and I felt suddenly lonely, for Asia is wondrously big, sahib. 

Whatever Ranjoor Singh had been saying to the men he had them backunder his thumb for the time being; for when I told him of mydiscovery of the hut he called them to attention, turned them to theright, and marched them off as obedient as a machine, Tugendheimfollowing like a man in a dream between his four guards andstruggling now and then to loose the wet thongs that were beginningto cut into his wrists. He had not been trussed over-tenderly, but Inoticed that Ranjoor Singh had ordered the gag removed. 

The hut stood alone, clear on all four sides, and after he hadlooked at it, Ranjoor Singh made the men line up facing the door, with himself and me and Tugendheim between them and the hut. Presently he pushed Tugendheim into the hut, and he bade me stand inthe door to watch him. 

"Now the man who wishes to ask questions may, " he said then, andthere was a long silence, for I suppose none wished to be accused ofimpudence and perhaps made an example for the rest. Besides, theywere too curious to know what his next intention might be to care tooffend him. So I, seeing that he wished them to speak, andconceiving that to be part of his plan for establishing goodfeeling, asked the first question--the first that came into my head. 

"What shall we do with this Tugendheim?" said I. 

"That I will show you presently, " said he. "Who else has a questionto ask?" And again there was silence, save for the rain and thegrinding and pounding on the beach. 

Then Gooja Singh made bold, as he usually did when he judged therisk not too great. He was behind the men, which gave him greatercourage; and it suited him well to have to raise his voice, becausethe men might suppose that to be due to insolence, whereas RanjoorSingh must ascribe it to necessity. Well I knew the method of GoojaSingh's reasoning, and I knitted my fists in a frenzy of fear lesthe say the wrong word and start trouble. Yet I need not haveworried. I observed that Ranjoor Singh seemed not disturbed at all, and he knew Gooja Singh as well as I. 

"It seems for the time being that we have given the slip to bothTurks and Germans, " said Gooja Singh; and Ranjoor Singh said, "Aye!For the time being!"

"And we truly stand on Asia?" he asked. 

"Aye!" said Ranjoor Singh, "Then why did we not put those Turks ashore, and steam away in theirship toward Gallipoli to join our friends?" said he. 

"Partly because of submarines, " said Ranjoor Singh, "and partlybecause of gun-fire. Partly because of mines floating in the water, and partly again from lack of coal. The bunkers were about empty. Itwas because there was so little coal that the Germans trusted usalone on board. "

"Yet, why let the Turks have the steamer?" asked Gooja Singh, bound, now that he was started, to prove himself in the right. "They willfloat about until daylight and then send signals. Then will comeTurks and Germans!"

"Nay!" said Ranjoor Singh. "No so, for I sank the steamer! I myselflet the sea into her hold!"

Gooja Singh was silent for about a minute, and although it was darkand I could not see him. I knew exactly the expression of hisface--wrinkled thus, and with the lower lip thrust out, so!

"Any more questions?" asked Ranjoor Singh, and by that time GoojaSingh had thought again. This time he seemed to think he had anunanswerable one, for his voice was full of insolence. 

"Then how comes it, " said he, "that you turned those Turks loose intheir small boats when we might have kept them with us for hostages?Now they will row to the land and set their masters on our tracks!Within an hour or two we shall all be prisoners again! Tell us why!"

"For one thing, " said Ranjoor Singh, without any resentment in hisvoice that I could detect (although THAT was no sign!), "I had tomake some sort of bargain with them, and having made it I must keepit. The money with which I bribed the captain and his mate wouldhave been of little use to them unless I allowed them life andliberty as well. "

"But they will give the alarm and cause us to be followed!" shoutedGooja Singh, his voice rising louder with each word. 

"Nay, I think not!" said Ranjoor Singh, as calmly as ever. "In thefirst place, I have a written receipt from captain and mate for ourmoney, stating the reason for which it was paid; if we were madeprisoners again, that paper would be found in my possession and itmight go ill with those Turks. In the second place, they will wishto save their faces. In the third place, they must explain the lossof their steamer. So they will say the steamer was sunk by asubmarine, and that they got away in the boats and watched us drown. The crew will bear out what the captain and the mate say, partlyfrom fear, partly because that is the custom of the country, butchiefly because they will receive a small share of the bribe. Let ushope they get back safely--for their story will prevent pursuit!"

For about two minutes again there was silence, and then Gooja Singhcalled out: "Why did you not make them take us to Gallipoli?"

"There was not enough coal!" said I, but Ranjoor Singh made agesture to me of impatience. 

"The Germans wished us to go to Gallipoli, " said he, "and I havenoticed that whatever they may desire is expressly intended fortheir advantage and not ours. In Gallipoli they would have kept usout of range at the rear, and presently they would have caused apicture of us to be taken serving among the Turkish army. That theywould have published broadcast. After that I have no idea what wouldhave happened to us, except that I am sure we should never have gotnear enough to the British lines to make good our escape. We mustfind another way than that!"

"We might have made the attempt!" said Gooja Singh, and a dozen menmurmured approval. 

"Simpletons!" came the answer. "The Germans laid their plans for thefirst for photographs to lend color to lies about the Sikh troopsfighting for them! Ye would have played into their hands!"

"What then?" said I, after a minute, for at that answer they had allgrown dumb. 

"What then?" said he. "Why, this: We are in Asia, but still onTurkish soil. We need food. We shall need shelter before many hours. And we need discipline, to aid our will to overcome! Therefore therenever was a regiment more fiercely disciplined than this shall be!From now until we bring up in a British camp--and God knows when orwhere that may happen!--the man who as much as thinks ofdisobedience plays with death! Death--ye be as good as dead mennow!" said he. 

He shook himself. A sense of loneliness had come on me since he toldus we were in Asia, and I think the men felt as I did. There hadbeen nothing to eat on the steamer, and there was nothing now. Hunger and cold and rain were doing their work. But Ranjoor Singhstood and shook himself, and moved slowly along the line to look ineach man's face, and I took new courage from his bearing. If I couldhave known what he had in store for us, I would have leaped andshouted. Yet, no, sahib; that is not true. If he had told me whatwas coming, I would never have believed. Can the sahib imagine, forinstance, what was to happen next?

"Ye are as good as dead men!" he said, coming back to the center andfacing all the men. "Consider!" said he. "Our ship is sunk and theTurks, to save their own skins, will swear they saw us drown. Who, then, will come and hunt for dead men?"

I could see the eyes of the nearest men opening wider as newpossibilities began to dawn. As for me--my two hands shook. 

"And we have with us, " said he, "a hostage who might prove useful--ahostage who might prove amenable to reason. Bring out the prisoner!"said he. 

So I bade Tugendheim come forth. He was sitting on the straw wherethe guards had pushed him, still working sullenly to free his hands. He came and peered through the doorway into darkness, and RanjoorSingh stood aside to let the men see him. They can not have seenmuch, for it was now that utter gloom that precedes dawn. Nor canTugendheim have seen much. 

"Do you wish to live or die?" asked Ranjoor Singh, and the Germangaped at him. 

"That is a strange question!" he said. 

"Is it strange, " asked Ranjoor Singh, "that a prisoner should beasked for information?"

"I am not afraid to die, " said Tugendheim. 

"You mean by rifle-fire?" asked Ranjoor Singh, and Tugendheimnodded. 

"But there are other kinds of fire, " said Ranjoor Singh. 

"What do you mean?" asked Tugendheim. 

"Why, " said Ranjoor Singh, "if we were to fire this hut to warmourselves, and you should happen to be inside it--what then?"

"If you intend to kill me, " said Tugendheim, "why not be mercifuland shoot me?" His voice was brave enough, but it seemed to me Idetected a strain of terror in it. 

"Few Germans are afraid to be shot to death, " said Ranjoor Singh. 

"But what have I done to any of you that you should want to burn mealive?" asked Tugendheim; and that time I was positive his voice wasforced. 

"Haven't you been told by your officers, " said Ranjoor Singh, "thatthe custom of us Sikhs is to burn all our prisoners alive?"

"Yes, " said Tugendheim. "They told us that. But that was only a taleto encourage the first-year men. Having lived in India, I knewbetter. "

"Did you trouble yourself to tell anybody better?" asked RanjoorSingh, but Tugendheim did not answer. 

"Then can you give me any reason why you should not be burned alivehere, now?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Yes!" said Tugendheim. "It would be cruel. It would be devil'swork!" He was growing very uneasy, although trying hard not to showit. 

"Then give me a name for the tales you have been party to against usSikhs!" said Ranjoor Singh; but once more the German refrained fromanswering. The men were growing very attentive, breathing all inunison and careful to make no sound to disturb the talking. At thatinstant a great burst of firing broke out over the water, so faraway that I could only see one or two flashes, and, although thatwas none too reassuring to us, it seemed to Tugendheim like hisdeath knell. He set his lips and drew back half a step. 

"Can you wish to live with the shame of all those lies against us onyour heart--you, who have lived in India and know so much better?"asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Of course I wish to live!" said Tugendheim. 

"Have you any price to offer for your life?" asked Ranjoor Singh, and stepping back two paces he ordered a havildar with a loud voiceto take six men and hunt for dry kindling. "For there is not enoughhere, " said he. 

"Price?" said Tugendheim. "I have a handful of coins, and myuniform, and a sword. You left my baggage on the steamer--"

"Nay!" said Ranjoor Singh. "Your baggage came ashore in one of theboats. Where is it? Who has it?"

A man stepped forward and pointed to it, lying in the shadow of thehut with the rain from the roof dripping down on it. 

"Who brought it ashore?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"I, " said the trooper. 

"Then, for leaving it there in the rain, you shall carry it threedays without assistance or relief!" said Ranjoor Singh. "Get back toyour place in the ranks!" And the man got back, saying nothing. Ranjoor Singh picked up the baggage and tossed it past Tugendheiminto the hut. 

"That is all I have!" said Tugendheim. 

"If you decide to burn, it shall burn with you, " said Ranjoor Singh, "and that trooper shall carry a good big stone instead to teach himmanners!"

"GOTT IN HIMMEL!" exclaimed Tugendheim, losing his self-control atlast. "Can I offer what I have not got?"

"Is there nothing you can do?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"In what way? How?" asked the German. 

"In the way of making amends to us Sikhs for all those lies you havebeen party to, " said Ranjoor Singh. "If you were willing to offer tomake amends, I would listen to you. "

"I will do anything in reason, " said Tugendheim, looking him full inthe eye and growing more at ease. 

"I am a reasonable man, " said Ranjoor Singh. 

"Then, speak!" said Tugendheim. 

"Nay, nay!" said Ranjoor Singh, "it is for you to make proposals, and not for me. It is not I who stand waiting to be burned alive!Let me make you a suggestion, however. What had we Sikhs to offerwhen we were prisoners in Germany?"

"Oh, I see!" said Tugendheim. "You mean you wish me to join you--tobe one of you?"

"I mean, " said Ranjoor Singh, "that if you were to apply to beallowed to join this regiment for a while, and to be allowed toserve us in a certain manner, we would consider the proposal. Otherwise--is my meaning clear?"

"Yes!" said Tugendheim. 

"Then--?' said Ranjoor Singh. 

"I apply!" said Tugendheim; and at that moment the havildar and hismen returned with some straw they had found in another tumble-downhut. They had it stuffed under their overcoats to keep it dry. "Toolate!" said Tugendheim with a grimace, but Ranjoor Singh bade themthrow the straw inside for all that. 

"In Germany we were required to set our names to paper, " he said, and Tugendheim looked him in the eyes again for a full half minute. "Do you expect better conditions than were offered us?" askedRanjoor Singh. 

"I will sign!" said Tugendheim. 

"What will you sign?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Anything in reason, " answered Tugendheim. 

"Let me tell you what I have here, then, " said Ranjoor Singh, and hegroped in his inner pocket for a paper, that he brought out veryneatly folded, sheltering it from the rain under his cape. "This, "said he, "is signed by the Turkish captain and mate of that sunkensteamer. It is a receipt for all our money, to be taken and dividedequally between you--mentioned by name--and them--mentioned also byname, on condition that the ship be sunk and we be let go. If youwill sign the paper--here--above their signatures--it will entitleyou to one-third of all that money. They would neither of them dareto refuse to share with you!"

"What if I refuse to sign?" asked Tugendheim, making a great savagewrench to free his wrists, but failing. 

"The suggestion is yours, " said Ranjoor Singh. "You have only yourown judgment for a guide. "

"If I sign it, will you let me go?" he asked. 

"No, " said Ranjoor Singh, "but we will not burn you alive if yousign. Here is a fountain-pen. Your hands shall be loosed when youare ready. "

Tugendheim nodded, so I went and cut his hands loose; and when I hadchafed his wrists for a minute or two he was able to write on myshoulder, I bending forward and Ranjoor Singh watching like a hawklest he tear the paper. But he made no effort to play tricks. 

When Ranjoor Singh had folded the paper again he said: "Those twoTurks quite understood that you were to be asked to sign as well. Infact, if there is any mishap they intend to lay all the blame onyou. But it is to their interest as much as yours to keep us frombeing captured. "

"You mean I'm to help you escape?" asked Tugendheim. 

"Exactly!" said Ranjoor Singh. "Now that you have signed that, I amwilling to bargain with you. We intend to find Wassmuss. "

Tugendheim pricked up his ears and began to look almost willing. 

"We have heard of this Wassmuss, and have taken quite a fancy tohim. Your friends proposed to send us to the trenches, but we havealready had too much of that work and we intend to find Wassmuss andtake part with him. Let your business be to obey me implicitly andto help us reach Wassmuss, and on the day we reach our goal youshall go free with this paper given back to you. Disobey me, and youshall sample unheard-of methods of repentance! Do we understand eachother?"

"I understand you!" said Tugendheim. 

"I, too, wish to understand, " said Ranjoor Singh. 

"It is a bargain, " said Tugendheim. But I noticed they did not shakehands after European fashion, although I think Tugendheim would havebeen willing. He was a hearty man in his way, given to bullying, butalso to quick forgetfulness; and I will say this much for him, thatalthough he was ever on the lookout for some way of breaking hisagreement, he kept it loyally enough while a way was lacking. I havemet men I liked less. 

It was growing by that time to be very nearly dawn, and the weatherdid not improve. The rain came down in squalls and sheets and thewind screamed through, it, and we were famished as well as wet tothe skin--all, that is to say, except Tugendheim, who had enjoyedthe shelter of the hut. The teeth of many of the men werechattering. Yet we stood about for an hour more, because it was toodark and too dangerous to march over unknown ground. I suspectRanjoor Singh did not dare squander what little spirit the men hadleft; if they had suspected him of losing them in the dark theymight have lost heart altogether. 

But at last there grew a little cold color in the sky and the seatook on a shade of gray. Then Ranjoor Singh told off the same fourmen who had first arrested him to guard our prisoner by day andnight, taking turns to pretend to be his servant, with orders togive instant alarm should his movements seem suspicious. After thatTugendheim was searched, but, nothing of interest being found onhim, his money and various little things were given back. 

"Had he no pistol?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Yes, " said I, "but I took it when we bound and gagged him on thesteamer. " And I drew it out and showed it, feeling proud, neverhaving had such a weapon--for the law of British India is strict. 

"Why did you not tell me?" he asked, and I was silent. "Give ithere!" said he, and I gave it up. He examined it, drew out thecartridges, and passed it to Tugendheim, who pocketed it with alaugh. It was three days before he spoke to Tugendheim and causedhim to give me the pistol back. I think the men were impressed, andI was glad of it, although at the time I felt ashamed. 

Presently Ranjoor Singh himself chose an advance guard of twenty menand put me in command of it. 

"March eastward, " he ordered me. "According to my map, you shouldfind a road within a mile or two running about northeast andsouthwest; turn to the left along it. Halt if you see armed men, andsend back word. Keep a lookout for food, for the men are starving, but loot nothing without my order! March!" said he. 

"May I ask a question, sahib, " said I, still lingering. 

"Ask, " said he. 

"Would you truly have burned the German alive?" said I, and helaughed. 

"That would have been a big fire, " said he. "Do you think none wouldhave come to investigate?"

"That is what I was thinking, " said I. 

"Do such thoughts burn your brain?" said he. "A threat to a bully--toa fool, folly--to a drunkard, drink--to each, his own! Be goingnow!"

So I saluted him and led away, wondering in my heart, the weathergrowing worse, if that were possible, but my spirits rising. I knewnow that my back was toward Gallipoli, where the nearest Britishwere, yet my heart felt bold with love for Ranjoor Singh and I didnot doubt we would strike a good blow yet for our friends, althoughI had no least idea who Wassmuss was, nor whither we were marching. If I had known--eh, but listen, sahib--this is a tale of tales!

CHAPTER V

If a man stole my dinner, I might let him run; but if he stole myhorse, he and I and death would play hide-and-seek!--RANJOOR SINGH

That dawn, sahib, instead of lessening, the rainstorm grew into adeluge that saved us from being seen. As I led my twenty men forwardI looked back a time or two, and once I could dimly see steamers andsome smaller boats tossing on the sea. Then the fiercest gust ofrain of all swept by like a curtain, and it was as if Europe hadbeen shut off forever--so that I recalled Gooja Singh's saying onthe transport in the Red Sea, about a curtain being drawn and ournot returning that way. My twenty men marched numbly, some seeminghalf-asleep. 

By and by, with heels sucking in the mud, we came to the road ofwhich Ranjoor Singh had spoken and I turned along it. It had beenworn into ruts and holes by heavy traffic and now the rain madematters worse, so we made slow progress. But before long I was ableto make out dimly through the storm what looked like a railwaystation. There was a line of telegraph poles, and where it crossedour road there were buildings enough to have contained tworegiments. I could see no sign of men, but in that light, with rainswirling hither and thither, it was difficult to judge. I halted, and sent a man back to warn Ranjoor Singh. 

We blew on our fingers and stamped to keep life in ourselves, untilat the end of ten minutes he came striding out of the rain like aking on his way to be crowned. My twenty were already speechlesswith unhappiness and hunger, but he had instilled some of his ownspirit into the rest of the regiment, for they marched with a swingin good order. He had Tugendheim close beside him and had inspiredhim, too. It may be the man was grinning in hope of our capturewithin an hour, and in that case he was doomed to disappointment. Hewas destined also to see the day when he should hope for our escape. But from subsequent acquaintance with him I think he wasappreciating the risk we ran and Ranjoor Singh's great daring. I saythis for Tugendheim, that he knew and respected resolution when hesaw it. 

When I had pointed out what I could see of the lay of the land, Ranjoor Singh left me in charge and marched away with Tugendheim andTugendheim's four guards. I looked about for shelter, but there wasnone. We stood shivering, the rain making pools at our feet thatspread and became one. So I made the men mark time and abused themroundly for being slack about it, they grumbling greatly because ourprisoner was marched away to shelter, whereas we must stand without. I bullied them as much as I dared, and we stamped the road into averitable quagmire, as builders tread mud for making sun-driedbricks, so that when three-quarters of an hour had passed and a mancame running back with a message from Ranjoor Singh there was alittle warmth in us. I did not need to use force to get the columnstarted. 

"Come!" said the trooper. "There is food, and shelter, and who knowswhat else!"

So we went best foot first along the road, feeling less than half ashungry and not weak at all, now that we knew food was almost withinreach. Truly a man's desires are the vainest part of him. Lesshungry we were at once, less weary, and vastly less afraid; yet, toomuch in a hurry to ask questions of the messenger!

Ranjoor Singh came out of a building to meet us, holding up hishand, so I made the men halt and began to look about. It wascertainly a railway station, with a long platform, and part of theplatform was covered by a roof. Parallel to that was a great shedwith closed sides, and through its half-open door I could smell hay--avery good smell, sahib, warming to the heart. To our right, across what might be called a yard--thus--were many low sheds, andin one there were horses feeding; in others I could see Turkishsoldiers sprawling on the straw, but they took no notice of us. Three of the low sheds were empty, and Ranjoor Singh pointed tothem. 

"Let all except twenty men, " said he, "go and rest in those sheds. If any one asks questions, say only 'Allah!' So they will think youare Muhammadans. If that should not seem sufficient, say 'Wassmuss!'But unless questioned many times, say nothing! As you value yourlives, say nothing more than those two words to any one at all!Rather be thought fools than be hanged before breakfast!"

So all but twenty of the men went and lay down on straw in the threeempty sheds, and I took the twenty and followed him into the greatshed with closed sides. Therein, besides many other things, webeheld great baskets filled with loaves of bread, --not very goodbread, nor at all fresh, but staff of life itself to hungry men. Hebade the men count out four loaves for each and every one of us, andthen at last, he gave me a little information. 

"The Germans in Stamboul, " he said, "talked too loud of this placein my hearing. " I stood gnawing a loaf already, and I urged him totake one, but he would eat nothing until all the men should havebeen fed. "They detrain Dervish troops at this point, " said he, "andmarch them to the shore to be shipped to Gallipoli, because theyriot and make trouble if kept in barracks in Skutari or Stamboul. This bread was intended for two train-loads of them. "

"Then the Dervishes will riot after all!" said I, and he laughed--athing he does seldom. 

"The sooner the better!" said he. "A riot might cover up our trackseven better than this rain. "

"Is there no officer in charge here?" I asked him, "Aye, a Turkish officer, " said he. "I heard the Germans complainabout his inefficiency. A day or two later and we might have found aGerman in his place. He mistakes us for friends. What else could webe?" And he laughed again. 

"But the telegraph wire?" said I. 

"Is down, " he said, "both between here and Skutari, and between hereand Inismid. God sent this storm to favor us, and we will praise Godby making use of it. "

"Where is Tugendheim?" said I, but it was some minutes before heanswered me, for, since the loaves were counted he went to see themdistributed, and I followed him. 

"Tugendheim, " he said at last, "has driven the Turkish officer toseek refuge in seclusion! I used the word 'Wassmuss, ' and that hadeffect; but Tugendheim's insolence was our real passport. Nobodyhere doubts that we are in full favor at Stamboul. Wassmuss can keepfor later on. "

"Sahib, " said I, seeing he was in good humor now, "tell me of thisWassmuss. "

"All in good time!" he answered. And when he has decided it is notyet time to answer, it is wisest to be still. After fifteen ortwenty minutes with the men, I followed him across the yard andentered the station waiting-room--a pretentious place, with fancybronze handles on the doors and windows. 

Lo, there sat Tugendheim, with his hands deep in his pockets and agreat cigar between his teeth. His four guards stood with bayonetsfixed, making believe to wait on him, but in truth watching him ascaged wolves eye their dinner. Ranjoor Singh was behaving almostrespectfully toward him, which filled me with disgust; but presentlyI saw and understood. There was a little window through which tosell tickets, and down in one corner of it the frosting had beenrubbed from off the glass. 

"There is an eye, " said I in an undertone, "that I could send abullet through without difficulty!" But Ranjoor Singh called me aperson without judgment and turned his back. 

"When do we start?" asked Tugendheim. 

"When the men have finished eating, " he answered, and at that Istared again, for I knew the men's mood and did not believe itpossible to get them away without a long rest, nor even in that casewithout argument. 

"What if they refuse?" said I, and Ranjoor Singh faced about to lookat me. 

"Do you refuse?" he asked. "Go and warn them to finish eating and beready to march in twenty minutes!"

So I went, and delivered the message, and it was as I had expected, only worse. 

"So those are his words? What are words!" said they. "Ask himwhither he would lead us!" shouted Gooja Singh. He had been talkingin whispers with a dozen men at the rear of the middle hut. 

"If I take him such dogs' answers, " said I, "he will dismiss me andthere will be no more a go-between. "

"Go, take him this message, " shouted Gooja Singh. "But for hissinking of our ship we should now be among friends in Gallipoli!Could we not have seized another ship and plundered coal? Tell him, therefore, if he wishes to lead us he must use good judgment. Are weleaves blown hither and thither for his amusement? Nay! We belong tothe British Army! Tell him we will march toward Gallipoli ornowhither! We will march until opposite Gallipoli, and search forsome means of crossing. "

"I will take that as Gooja Singh's message, then, " said I. 

"Nay, nay!" said he. "That is the regiment's message!" And the dozenmen with whom he had been whispering nodded acquiescence. "Is GoojaSingh the regiment?" I asked. 

"No, " said he, "but I am OF the regiment. I am not a man runningback and forth, false to both sides!"

I was not taken by surprise. Something of that sort sooner or laterI knew must come, but I would have preferred another time and place. 

"Be thou go-between then, Gooja Singh!" said I. "I accepted onlyunder strong persuasion. Gladly I relinquish! Go thou, and carry thymessage to Ranjoor Singh!" And I sat down in the entrance of themiddle hut, as if greatly relieved of heavy burdens. "I havefinished!" I said. "I am not even havildar! I will request reductionto the ranks!"

For about a minute I sat while the men stared in astonishment. Thenthey began to rail at me, but I shook my head. They coaxed me, but Irefused. Presently they begged me, but I took no notice. 

"Let Gooja Singh be your messenger!" said I. And at that they turnedon Gooja Singh, and some of them went and dragged him forward, heresisting with arms and feet. They set him down before me. 

"Say the word, " said they, "and he shall be beaten!"

So I got on my feet again and asked whether they were soldiers ormonkey-folk, to fall thus suddenly on one of their number, and he asuperior. I bade them loose Gooja Singh, and I laid my hand on hisshoulder, helping him to his feet. 

"Are we many men with many troubles, or one regiment?" said I. 

At that most of them grew ashamed, and those who had assaulted GoojaSingh began to make excuses, but he went back to the rear to the menwho had whispered with him. They drew away, and he sat in silenceapart, I rejoicing secretly at his discomfiture but fearfulnevertheless. 

"Now!" said I. "Appoint another man to wait on Ranjoor Singh!"

But they cried out, "Nay! We will have none but you. You have donewell--we trust you--we are content!"

I made much play of unwillingness, but allowed them to persuade mein the end, yielding a little at a time and gaining from them evernew protestations of their loyalty until at last I let them thinkthey had convinced me. 

"Nevertheless, " said they, "tell Ranjoor Singh he must lead ustoward Gallipoli!" They were firm on that point. 

So I went back to the waiting-room and told Ranjoor Singh all thathad happened, omitting nothing, and he stood breaking pieces from aloaf of bread, with his fingers, not burying his teeth into the loafas most of us had done. He asked me the names of the men who had sospoken and I told him, he repeating them and considering each namefor a moment or two. 

"Have they finished eating?" he asked at last, and I told him theyhad as good as finished. So he ate his own bread faster. 

"Come, " he ordered presently, beckoning to Tugendheim and the fourguards to follow. 

It was raining as hard as ever as we crossed the station yard, andthe men had excuse enough for disliking to turn out. Yet theyscented development, I think, and none refused, although they fellin just not sullenly enough to call for reprimand. Ranjoor Singhdrew the roll from his inner pocket and they all answered to theirnames. Then, without referring to the list again, he named those whoI had told him used high words to me, beginning at Gooja Singh andomitting none. 

"Fall out!" he ordered. And when they had obeyed, "Fall in againover there on the left!"

There were three-and-twenty of them, Gooja Singh included, and theyglared at me. So did others, and I wondered grimly how many enemiesI had made. But then Ranjoor Singh cleared his throat and werecognized again the old manner that had made a squadron love him tothe death at home in India--the manner of a man with good legs underhim and no fear in his heart. All but the three-and-twenty forgotforthwith my part in the matter. 

"Am I to be herdsman, then?" said he, pitching his voice againstwind and rain. "Are ye men--or animals? Hunted animals would haveknown enough to eat and hurry on. Hunted animals would be wiseenough to run in the direction least expected. Hunted animals wouldtake advantage of ill weather to put distance between them and theirfoe. Some of you, then, must be less than animals! Men I can lead. Animals I can drive. But what shall be done with such less-than-animalsas can neither be led nor driven?"

Then he turned about half-left to face the three-and-twenty, andstood as it were waiting for their answer, with one hand holding theother wrist behind his back. And they stood shifting feet andlooking back at him, extremely ill-at-ease. 

"What is the specific charge against us?" asked Gooja Singh, for themen began to thrust him forward. But Ranjoor Singh let no man drawhim from the main point to a lesser one. 

"You have leave, " said he, "to take one box of cartridges and go!Gallipoli lies that way!" And he pointed through the rain. 

Then the two-and-twenty forgot me and began at once abusing GoojaSingh, he trying to refute them, and Ranjoor Singh watching them allwith a feeling, I thought, of pity. Tugendheim, trying to make theends of his mustaches stand upright in the rain, laughed as if hethought it a very great joke; but the rest of the men lookeddoubtful. I knew they were unwilling to turn their backs on any ofour number, yet afraid to force an issue, for Ranjoor Singh had themin a quandary. I thought perhaps I might mediate. 

"Sahib, " said I. 

"Silence!" he ordered. So I stepped back to my place, and a dozenmen laughed at me, for which I vowed vengeance. Later when my wrathhad cooled I knew the reprimand and laughter wiped out suspicion ofme, and when my chance came to take vengeance on them I refrained, although careful to reassert my dignity. 

After much argument, Gooja Singh turned his back at last on thetwo-and-twenty and saluted Ranjoor Singh with great abasement. 

"Sahib, " said he, "we have no wish to go one way and you another. Webe of the regiment. "

"Ye have set yourselves up to be dictators. Ye have used wild words. Ye have tried to seduce the rest. Ye have my leave to go!" saidRanjoor Singh. 

"Nay!" said Gooja Singh. "We will not go! We follow the regiment!"

"Will ye follow like dogs that pick up offal, then?" he asked, andGooja Singh said, "Nay! We be no dogs, but true men! We be faithfulto the salt, sahib, " said he. "We be sorry we offended. We be truemen--true to the salt. "

Now, that was the truth. Their fault had lain in not believing theirofficer at least as faithful as they and ten times wiser. Every manin the regiment knew it was truth, and for all that the rain poureddown in torrents, obscuring vision, I could see that the generalfeeling was swinging all one way. If I had dared, I would havetouched Ranjoor Singh's elbow, and have whispered to him. But I didnot dare. Nor was there need. The instant he spoke again I knew hesaw clearer than I. 

"Ye speak of the salt, " said he. 

"Aye!" said Gooja Singh. "Aye, sahib! In the name of God be good tous! Whom else shall we follow?"

"Aye, sahib!" said the others. "Put us to the test!"

The lined-up regiment, that had been standing rigid, not atattention, but with muscles tense, now stood easier, and it mighthave been a sigh that passed among them. 

"Then, until I release you for good behavior, you three-and-twentyshall be ammunition bearers, " said Ranjoor Singh. "Give over yourrifles for other men to carry. Each two men take a box ofcartridges. Swiftly now!" said he. 

So they gave up their rifles, which in itself was proof enough thatthey never intended harm, but were only misled by Gooja Singh andthe foolishness of their own words. And they picked up the cartridgeboxes, leaving Gooja Singh standing alone by the last one. He made awry face. "Who shall carry this?" said he, and Ranjoor Singhlaughed. 

"My rank is havildar!" said Gooja Singh. 

Ranjoor Singh laughed again. "I will hold court-martial and reduceyou to the ranks whenever I see the need!" said he. "For thepresent, you shall teach a new kind of lesson to the men you havemisled. They toil with ammunition boxes. You shall stride free!"

Gooja Singh had handed his rifle to me, and I passed it to atrooper. He stepped forward now to regain it with something of asmirk on his fat lips. 

"Nay, nay!" said Ranjoor Singh, with another laugh. "No rifle, GoojaSingh! Be herdsman without honor! If one man is lost on the road youshall be sent back alone to look for him! Herd them, then; drivethem, as you value peace!"

There being then one box to be provided for, he chose eight strongmen to take turns with it, each two to carry for half an hour; andthat these might know there was no disgrace attached to their task, they were placed in front, to march as if they were the band. Norwas Gooja Singh allowed to march last, as I expect he had hoped; heand his twenty-two were set in the midst, where they could eatshame, always under the eyes of half of us. Then Ranjoor Singhraised his voice again. 

"To try to reach Gallipoli, " he said, "would be as wise as to try toreach Berlin! Both shores are held by Turkish troops under Germanofficers. We found the one spot where it was possible to slipthrough undetected. We must make the most of that. Moreover, if theyrefuse to believe we were drownd last night, they will look for usin the direction of Gallipoli, for all the German officers inStamboul knew how your hearts burned to go thither. It was a jokeamong them! Let it be our business to turn the joke on them! Therewill be forced marches now--long hungry ones--Form fours!" heordered. "By the right--Quick march!" And we wheeled away into therain, he marching on the flank. I ran and overtook him. 

"Take a horse, sahib!" I urged. "See them in that shed! Take one andride, for it is more fitting!"

"Better plunder and burn!" said he. "If a man stole my dinner Imight let him run; but if he stole my horse, he and I and deathwould play hide-and-seek! We need forgetfulness, not angry memories, behind us! Keep thou a good eye on Tugendheim!"

So I fell to the rear, where I could see all the men, Tugendheimincluded! In a very few minutes we had lost the station buildings inthe rain behind us and then Ranjoor Singh began to lead in a widesemicircle, so that before long I judged we were marching aboutsoutheastward. At the end of an hour or so he changed direction todue east, and presently we saw another telegraph line. I overtookhim again and suggested that we cut it. 

"Nay!" said he. "If that line works and we are not believed drowned, too many telegrams will have been sent already! To cut it would givethem our exact position! Otherwise--why make trouble and perhapscause pursuit?"

So we marched under the telegraph wire and took a course aboutparallel to it. At noon it ceased raining and we rested, eating thebread, of which every man had brought away three loaves. After that, what with marching and the wind and sun our clothes began to dry andwe became more cheerful--all, that is to say, except the ammunitionbearers, who abused Gooja Singh with growing fervency. Yet he wascompelled to drive them lest he himself be court martialed andreduced to the ranks. 

Cheerfulness and selfishness are often one, sahib, for it was notwhat we could see that raised our spirits. We marched by villageafter village that had been combed by the foragers for Turkisharmies, --and saw only destitution to right and left, behind andbefore. The only animals we saw were dead ones except the dogshunting for bones that might have marrow in them still. 

We saw no men of military age. Only very old men were left, and butfew of those; they and the women and children ran away at sight ofus, except a very few who seemed careless from too much misery. Onesuch man had a horse, covered from head to foot with sores, that heoffered to sell to Ranjoor Singh. I did not overhear what price heasked, but I heard the men scoffing at such avarice as would rob thevultures. He went away saying nothing, like a man in stupor, leavingthe horse to die. Nay, sahib, he had not understood the words. 

We slept that first night in a village whose one street was aquagmire and a cesspool. There was no difficulty in finding shelterbecause so many of the houses were deserted; but the few inhabitantsof the other houses could not be persuaded to produce food. RanjoorSingh took their money away from, the four men whom I had overlookedwhen we all gave up our money on the steamer, and with that, andTugendheim for extra argument, he went from house to house. Tugendheim used no tenderness, such being not his manner ofapproach, but nothing came of it. They may have had food hidden, butwe ate stale bread and gave them some of it, although Ranjoor Singhforbade us when he saw what we were doing. He thought I had not beenlooking when he gave some of his own to a little one. 

We were up and away at dawn, with all the dogs in Asia at our heels. They smelled our stale bread and yearned for it. It was more than anhour before the last one gave up hope and fell behind. They are hardtimes, sahib, when the street dogs are as hungry as those were. 

Hunger! We met hunger day after day for eight days--hunger andnothing else, although it was good enough land--better than any Ihave seen in the Punjab. There was water everywhere. The air, too, was good to breathe, tempting us to fill our lungs and march likenew men, yet causing appetite we could not assuage. We avoidedtowns, and all large villages, Ranjoor Singh consulting his mapwhenever we halted and marching by the little compass the Germanshad given him. We should have seen sheep or goats or cattle hadthere been any; but there was none. Utterly not one! And we Sikhsare farmers, not easily deceived on such matters; we knew that to begrazing land we crossed. It was a land of fruit, too, in the properseason. There had been cattle by the thousand, but they were allgone--plundered by the Turks to feed their armies. 

Ranjoor Singh did his best to make us husband our stale loaves, butwe ate the last of them and became like famished wolves. Some of usgrew footsore, for we had German boots, to which our feet were notyet thoroughly accustomed, but he gave us no more rest than heneeded for his own refreshment--and that was wonderfully little. Wehad to nurse and bandage our feet as best we could, andmarch--march--march! He had a definite plan, for he led unhesitatingly, buthe would not tell us the plan. He was stern when we begged forlonger rests, merciless toward the ammunition bearers, silent at alltimes unless compelled to give orders or correct us. Most of thetime he kept Tugendheim marching beside him, and Tugendheim, Ithink, began to regard him with quite peculiar respect; for headmired resolution. 

Most of us felt that our last day of marching was upon us, for wewere ready to drop when we skirted a village at about noon on theeighth day and saw in the distance a citadel perched on a rocky hillabove the sky-line. We were on flat land, but there was a knollnear, and to that Ranjoor Singh led us, and there he let us lie. He, weary as we but better able to overcome, drew out his map and spreadit, weighting the four corners with stones; and he studied it chinon hand for about five minutes, we watching him in silence. 

"That, " said he, standing at last and pointing toward the distantcitadel, "is Angora. Yonder" (he made a sweeping motion) "runs therailway whose terminus is at Angora. There are many long roadshereabouts, so that the place has become a depot for food and storesthat the Turks plunder and the Germans despatch over the railway tothe coast. The railway has been taken over by the Germans. "

"Are we to storm the town?" asked a trooper, and fifty men mockedhim. But Ranjoor Singh looked down kindly at him and gave him a wordof praise. 

"No, my son, " he said. "Yet if all had been stout enough to askthat, I would have dared attempt it. No, we are perhaps a littledesperate, but not yet so desperate as that. "

He began sweeping the horizon with his eyes, quartering thecountryside mile by mile, overlooking nothing. I saw him watch thewheeling kites and look below them, and twice I saw him fix his gazefor minutes at a time on one place. 

"We will eat to-night!" he said at last. "Sleep, " he ordered. "Liedown and sleep until I summon you!" But he called me to his side andkept me wakeful for a while yet. 

"Look yonder, " said he, and when I had gazed for about two minutes Iwas aware of a column of men and animals moving toward the city. Alittle enough column. 

"How fast are they moving?" he asked me, and I gazed for severalminutes, reaching no decision. I said they were too far away, andcoming too much toward us for their speed to be accurately judged. Yet I thought they moved slowly. 

Said he, "Do you see that hollow--one, two, three miles this side ofthem?" And I answered yes. "That is a bend of the river that flowsby the city, " said he. "There is water there, and fire-wood. Theyhave come far and are heading toward it. They are too far spent toreach Angora before night. They will not try. That is where theywill camp. "

"Sahib, " I said, considering his words as a cook tastes curry, "ourmen be overweary to have fight in them. "

"Who spoke of fighting?" said he. So I went and lay down, and fellasleep wondering. When he came and roused me it was already growinglate. By the time I had roused the men and they were all lined up wecould no longer see Angora for the darkness; which worked bothways--those in Angora could not see us. 

"If any catch sight of us, " said Ranjoor Singh, speaking in a loudvoice to us all, "let us hope they mistake us for friends. What Turkor German looks for an enemy hereabouts? The chances are all ours, but beware! Be silent as ye know how! Forward!"

It was a pitiable effort, for our bellies yearned and our feet weresore and stiff. We stumbled from weariness, and men fell and werehelped up again. Gooja Singh and his ammunition bearers made morenoise than a squadron of mounted cavalry, and the way proved twiceas long as the most hopeless had expected. Yet we made the circuitunseen and, as far as we knew, unheard--certainly unchallenged. Doubtless, as Ranjoor Singh said afterward, the Turks were toooverriden by Germans and the Germans too overconfident to suspectthe presence of an enemy. 

At any rate, although we made more noise than was expedient, wehalted at last among low bushes and beheld nine or ten Turkishsentries posted along the rim of a rise, all unaware of us. Two werefast asleep. Some sat. The others drowsed, leaning on their rifles. Ranjoor Singh gave us whispered orders and we rushed them, only onecatching sight of us in time to raise an alarm. He fired his rifle, but hit nobody, and in another second they were all surrounded anddisarmed. 

Then, down in the hollow we saw many little campfires, each onereflected in the water. Some Turks and about fifty men of anothernation sat up and rubbed their eyes, and a Turkish captain--anupstanding flabby man, came out from the only tent to learn what thetrouble might be. Ranjoor Singh strode down into the hollow andenlightened him, we standing around the rim of the rise with ourbayonets fixed and rifles at the "ready. " I did not hear whatRanjoor Singh said to the Turkish captain because he left me toprevent the men from stampeding toward the smell of food--no easytask. 

After five minutes he shouted for Tugendheim, and the German wentdown the slope visibly annoyed by the four guards who kept theirbayonets within a yard of his back. It was a fortunate circumstancefor us, not only then but very many times, that Tugendheim wouldhave thought himself disgraced by appealing to a Turk. Seeing therewas no German officer in the hollow, he adopted his arrogant manner, and the Turkish officer drew back from him like a man stung. Afterthat the Turkish captain appeared to resign himself to impotence, for he ordered his men to pile arms and retired into his tent. 

Then Ranjoor Singh came up the slope and picked the twenty men whoseemed least ready to drop with weariness, of whom I regretted to beone. He set us on guard where the Turkish sentries had been, and theTurks were sent below, where presently they fell asleep among theirbrethren, as weary, no doubt, from plundering as we were frommarching on empty bellies. None of them seemed annoyed to bedisarmed. Strange people! Fierce, yet strangely tolerant!

Then all the rest of the men, havildars no whit behind the rest, swooped down on the camp-fires, and presently the smell of toastingcorn began to rise, until my mouth watered and my belly yearned. Fifteen or twenty minutes later (it seemed like twenty hours, sahib!) hot corn was brought to us and we on guard began to be newmen. Nevertheless, food made the guard more sleepy, and I was hardput to it walking from one to another keeping them awake. 

All that night I knew nothing of what passed in the camp below, butI learned later on that Ranjoor Singh found among the Syrians whosebusiness was to load and drive carts a man named Abraham. All in thecamp who were not Turks were Syrians, and these Syrians had beendragged away from their homes scores of leagues away and made tolabor without remuneration. This Abraham was a gifted man, who hadbeen in America, and knew English, as well as several dialects ofKurdish, and Turkish and Arabic and German. He knew better Germanthan English, and had frequently been made to act interpreter. Later, when we marched together, he and I became good friends, andhe told me many things. 

Well, sahib, after he had eaten a little corn, Ranjoor Singhquestioned this man Abraham, and then went with him through thecamp, examining the plunder the Turks had seen fit to requisition. It was plain that this particular Turkish officer was no paragon ofall the virtues, and Ranjoor Singh finally entered his tentunannounced, taking Abraham with him. So it was that I learned thedetails later, for Abraham told me all I asked. 

On a box beside the bed Ranjoor Singh found writing-paper, envelopes, and requisition forms not yet filled out, but alreadysigned with a seal and a Turkish signature. There was a map, and alist of routes and villages. But best of all was a letter ofinstructions signed by a German officer. There were also otherpriceless things, of some of which I may chance to speak later. 

I was told by Abraham that during the conversation following RanjoorSingh's seizure of the papers the word Wassmuss was bandied back andforth a thousand times, the Turk growing rather more amenable eachtime the word was used. Finally the Turk resigned himself with ashrug of the shoulders, and was left in his tent with a guard of ourmen at each corner. 

Then, for all that the night was black dark and there were very fewlanterns, the camp began to be turned upside down, Ranjoor Singhordering everything thrown aside that could not be immediatelyuseful to us. There were forty carts, burdened to the breakingpoint, and twenty of them Ranjoor Singh abandoned as too heavy forour purpose. Most of the carts had been drawn by teams of six muleseach, but ten of them had been drawn by horses, and besides theTurkish captain's horse there were four other spare ones. There werealso about a hundred sheep and some goats. 

Ranjoor Singh ordered all the corn repacked into fourteen of thecarts, sheep and goats into four carts, and ammunition into theremaining two, leaving room in each cart for two men so that theguard who had stood awake all night might ride and sleep. That lefthim with sixty-four spare horses. Leaving the Turkish officer hisown horse, but taking the saddle for himself, he gave Tugendheimone, me another, the third to Gooja Singh--he being nextnon-commissioned officer to me in order of seniority, and having hadpunishment enough--and the fourth horse, that was much the best one, he himself took. Then he chose sixty men to cease from beinginfantry and become a sort of cavalry again--cavalry without saddlesas yet, or stirrups--cavalry with rifles--cavalry with achingfeet--but cavalry none the less. He picked the sixty with great wisdom, choosing for the most part men who had given no trouble, but heincluded ten or twelve grumblers, although for a day or two I didnot understand why. There was forethought in everything he did. 

The sheep that could not be crowded into the carts he orderedbutchered there and then, and the meat distributed among the men;and all the plunder that he decided not to take he ordered heaped inone place where it would not be visible unless deliberately lookedfor. The plundered money that he found in the Turk's tent he hidunder the corn in the foremost cart, and we found it very usefullater on. The few of our men who had not fallen asleep were forburning the piled-up plunder, but he threatened to shoot whoeverdared set match to it. 

"Shall we light a beacon to warn the countryside?" said he. 

A little after midnight there began to be attempts by Turkishsoldiers to break through and run for Angora. But I had kept mytwenty guards awake with threats of being made to carryammunition--even letting the butt of my rifle do work not set down in theregulations. So it came about that we captured every singlefugitive. They were five all told, and I sent them, tied together, down to Ranjoor Singh. Thereupon he went to the Turk, and promisedhim personal violence if another of his men should attempt to breakaway. So the Turk gave orders that were obeyed. 

Then, when all the plunder in the camp had been rearranged, and themules and horses reapportioned, four hours yet before dawn, RanjoorSingh took out his fountain-pen and executed the stroke of geniusthat made what followed possible. Without Abraham I do not know whathe would have done. I can not imagine. Yet I feel sure he would havecontrived something. He made use of Abraham as the best toolavailable, and that is no proof he could not have done as well byother means. I have learned this: that Ranjoor Singh, with thatfaith of his in God, can do anything. Anything. He is a true man, and God puts thoughts into his heart. 

Among the Turk's documents were big sheets of paper for officialcorrespondence, similar to that on which his orders were written. Ranjoor Singh ascertained from Abraham that he who had signed thoseorders was the German officer highest in command in all that region, who had left Angora a month previously to superintend therequisitioning. 

So Ranjoor Singh sent for Tugendheim, whose writing would have theproper clerical appearance, and by a lantern in the tent dictated tohim a letter in German to the effect that this Turkish officer, byname Nazim, with all his men and carts and animals, had beendiverted to the aid of Wassmuss. The letter went on to say that onhis way back to Angora this same high German officer would himselfcover the territory thus left uncared for, so that nothing need bedone about it in the meanwhile. (He wrote that to preventinvestigation and perhaps pursuit by the men in Angora who waitedNazim and his plunder. )

At the foot of the letter Abraham cleverly copied the signature ofthe very high German officer, after making many experiments first onanother sheet of paper. 

Tugendheim of course protested vehemently that he would do no suchthing, when ordered to write. But Ranjoor Singh ordered the barrelof a Turkish soldier's rifle thrust in the fire, and the German didnot protest to the point of permitting his feet to be singed. Hewrote a very careful letter, even suggesting better phraseology--hisreason for that being that, since he was thus far committed, ourtotal escape would be the best thing possible for him. The Germans, who are so fond of terrifying others, are merciless to their own whohappen to be guilty of weak conduct, and to have said he wascompelled to write that letter would have been no excuse if we werecaught. Henceforward it was strictly to his interest to help us. 

Finally, when the letter had been sealed in its envelope, there camethe problem of addressing it, and the Turk seemed ignorant on thatpoint, or else stupid. Perhaps he was wilfully ignorant, hoping thatthe peculiar form of the address might cause suspicion andinvestigation. But what with Tugendheim's familiarity with Germanmilitary custom, and Ranjoor Singh's swift thought, an address wasdevised that served the purpose, judging by results. 

Then came the problem of delivering the letter. To have sent one ofthe Turkish soldiers with it would have been the same thing asmarching to Angora and surrendering; for of course the Turk wouldhave told of what happened in the night, and where it happened, andall about it. To have sent one of the half-starved Syrians wouldprobably have amounted to the same thing; for the sake of abellyful, or from fear of ill-treatment the wretched man would verylikely tell too much. But Abraham was different. Abraham was aneducated man, who well understood the value to us of silence, andwho seemed to hate both Turks and Germans equally. 

So Ranjoor Singh took Abraham aside and talked with him fiveminutes. And the end of that was that a Turkish soldier wascompelled to strip himself and change clothes with Abraham, the Turktaking no pleasure at all in the exchange. Then Abraham was given ahorse, and on the outside of the envelope in one corner was writtenin German, "Bearer should be supplied with saddle for his horse andsent back at once with acknowledgment of receipt of this. "

There and then Ranjoor Singh gave Abraham the letter, shook handswith him, helped him on the horse, and sent him on his way--threehours before dawn. Then promptly he gave orders to all the otherSyrians to strike camp and resume their regular occupation ofdriving mules. 

The Turkish officer, although not deprived of his horse, was notpermitted to ride until after daybreak, because of the difficultyotherwise of guarding him in the dark. The same with Tugendheim;although there was little reason for suspecting him of wanting toescape, with that letter fresh in his memory, he was neverthelesscompelled to walk until daylight should make escape impossible. 

The Turkish officer was made to march in front with his four-and-fortysoldiers, who were given back their rifles but no bayonets orammunition. Gooja Singh, whose two-and-twenty were ready by thattime to pull his beard out hair by hair, was given fifty men whohated him less fiercely and set to march next behind the Turks. Thencame the carts in single column, and after them Tugendheim and theremainder of our infantry. Behind the infantry rode the cavalry, andvery last of all rode Ranjoor Singh, since that was for the presentthe post of chiefest danger. 

As for me, I tumbled into a cart and fell asleep at once, scarcelyhearing the order shouted to the Turk to go forward. The men who hadbeen on guard with me all did the same, falling asleep like I almostbefore their bodies touched the corn. 

When I awoke it was already midday. We had halted near some treesand food was being served out. I got under the cart to keep the sunoff me, and lay there musing until a trooper had brought my meal. The meal was good, and my thoughts were good--excellent! For had wenot been a little troop of lean ghosts, looking for graves to liein? The talk along the way had been of who should bury us, or whoshould bury the last man, supposing we all died one by one! Had wenot been famished until the very wind was a wall too heavy toprevail against? And were we not now what the drill-book calls acomposite force, with full bellies, carts, horses and equipment? Whothought about graves any longer? I lay and laughed, sahib, until atrooper brought me dinner--laughed for contempt of the Germans wehad left behind, and for the Turks whose plunder we had stolen, --laughedlike a fool, like a man without brain or experience or judgment. 

Not until I had eaten my fill did I bethink me of Ranjoor Singh. Then I rose lazily, and was astonished at the stiffness in myankles. Nevertheless I contrived to stride with military manner, inorder that any Turk or Syrian beholding me might know me for a manto be reckoned with, the added pain and effort being well worthwhile. 

Nor did I have far to look for Ranjoor Singh. The instant I raisedmy eyes I saw him sitting on a great rock beneath the shadow of atree, with his horse tied below him eating corn from a cloth spreadon the ground. In order to reach him with least inconvenience, Imade a circuit and approached from the rear, because in thatdirection the rock sloped away gradually and I was in no mood toclimb, nor in condition to climb with dignity. 

So it happened that I came on him unaware. Nevertheless, I wassurprised that his ears should not detect my footfall. The horse, six feet below us, was aware of me first and snorted, yet RanjoorSingh did not turn his head. 

"Sahib!" said I; but he did not move. 

"Sahib!" I said, going a step nearer and speaking louder. But heneither moved nor answered. Now I knew there was no laughing matter, and my hand trembled as I held it out to touch his shoulder. Hisarms were folded above his knees and his chin rested on them. Ishook him slightly, and his chin fell down between his knees; but hedid not answer. Now I knew beyond doubt he was not asleep, forhowever weary he would ever awake at a touch or the lightestwhisper. I began to fear he was dead, and a feeling of sicknessswept over me as that grim fear took hold. 

"Sahib!" I said again, taking his shoulders with both hands. And hetoppled over toward me, thus, like a dead man. Yet he breathed. Imade certain he was breathing. 

I shook him twice or thrice, with no result. Then I took him in myarms, thus, one arm under the knees and one under his armpits, andlifted him. He is a heavy man, all bone and sinew, and my stiffankles caused me agony; but I contrived to lay him gently fulllength in the shadow of the tree-trunk, and then I covered him withhis overcoat, to keep away flies. I had scarcely finished that whenGooja Singh came, and I cursed under my breath; but openly Iappeared pleased to see him. 

"It is well you came!" said I. "Thus I am saved the necessity ofsending one to bring you. Our sahib is asleep, " I said, "and hasmade over the command to me until he shall awake again. "

"He sleeps very suddenly!" said Gooja Singh, and he stood eying mewith suspicion. 

"Well he may!" said I, thinking furiously--as a man in a burninghouse--yet outwardly all calm. "He has done all our thinking for usall these days; he has borne alone the burden of responsibility. Hehas enforced the discipline, " said I with a deliberate stare thatmade Gooja Singh look sullen, "and God knows how necessary that hasbeen! He has let no littlest detail of the march escape him. He haseaten no more than we; he has marched as far and as fast as we; hehas slept less than any of us. And now, " said I, "he is weary. Hekept awake until I came, and fell asleep in my arms when he hadgiven me his orders. "

Gooja Singh looked as if he did not believe me. But my words hadbeen but a mask behind which I was thinking. As I spoke I steppedsidewise, as if to prevent our voices from disturbing the sleeper, for it seemed wise to draw Gooja Singh to safer distance. Now I satdown at last on the summit of the rock exactly where Ranjoor Singhwas sitting when I spied him first, hoping that perhaps in his placehis thoughts would come to me. And whether the place had anything todo with it or not I do not know, but certainly wise thoughts didcome. I reached a decision in that instant that was the saving ofus, and for which Ranjoor Singh greatly commended me later on. Because of it, in the days to come, he placed greater confidence inmy ability and faithfulness and judgment. 

"What were his orders?" asked Gooja Singh. "Or were they secretorders known only to him and thee?"

"If you had not come, " said I, "I would have sent for you to hearthe orders. When he wakes, " I added, "I shall tell him who obeyedthe swiftest. "

I was thinking still. Thinking furiously. I knew nothing at all yetabout Abraham, and that was good, for otherwise I might have decidedto wait there for him to overtake us. 

"Have the men finished eating?" I asked, and he answered he was comebecause they had finished eating. 

"Then the order is to proceed at once!" said I. "Send a cart hereunder the rock and eight good men, that we may lower our sahib intoit. With the exception of that one cart let the column proceed inthe same order as before, the Turk and his men leading. "

"Leading whither?" asked Gooja Singh. 

"Let us hope, " said I, "to a place where orders are obeyed inmilitary manner without question! Have you heard the order?" Iasked, and I made as if to go and wake our officer. 

Without another word Gooja Singh climbed down from the rock and wentabout shouting his commands as if he himself were their originator. Meanwhile I thought busily, with an eye for the wide horizon, wondering whether we were being pursued, or whether telegrams hadnot perhaps been sent to places far ahead, ordering Turkishregiments to form a cordon and cut us off. I wondered more than everwho Wassmuss might be, and whether Ranjoor Singh had had at any timethe least idea of our eventual destination. I had no idea whichdirection to take. There was no track I could see, except that madeby our own cart-wheels. On what did I base my decision, then? I willtell you, sahib. 

I saw that not only Ranjoor Singh's horse, but all the cattle hadbeen given liberal amounts of corn. It seemed to me that unless heintended to continue by forced marches Ranjoor Singh would havebegun by economizing food. Moreover, I judged that if he hadintended resting many hours in that spot he would have had mesummoned and have gone to sleep himself. The very fact that he hadlet me sleep on seemed to me proof that he intended going forward. Doubtless, he would depend on me to stand guard during the night. SoI reasoned it. And I also thought it probable he had told the Turkin which direction to lead, seeing that the Turk doubtless knew moreof that countryside than any. Ahead of us was all Asia and behind uswas the sea. Who was I that I should know the way? But by tellingthe Turk to lead on, I could impose on him responsibility forpossible error, and myself gain more time to think. And for thatdecision, too, Ranjoor Singh saw fit to praise me later. 

They brought the cart, and with the help of eight men, I laidRanjoor Singh very comfortably on the corn, and covered him. Then Ibade those eight be bodyguard, letting none approach too close onpain of violence, saying that Ranjoor Singh needed a long deep sleepto restore his energy. Also, I bade them keep that cart at the rearof the column, and I myself chose the rear place of all so as tokeep control, prevent straggling, and watch against pursuit. 

Pursued? Nay, sahib. Not at that time. Nevertheless, that thought ofmine, to choose the last place, was the very gift of God. We hadbeen traveling about three parts of an hour when I perceived a verylong way off the head of a camel caravan advancing at swift pacetoward us--or almost toward us. It seemed to me to be coming fromAngora. And it so happened that at the moment when I saw it firstthe front half of our column had already dipped beyond a rise andwas descending a rather gentle slope. 

I hurried the tail of the column over the rise by twisting it, as aman twists bullocks' tails. And then I bade the whole line halt andlie down, except those in charge of horses; them I ordered into theshelter of some trees, and the carts I hurried behind a low ridge--allexcept Ranjoor Singh's cart; that I ordered backed into a hollownear me. So we were invisible unless the camels should approach tooclose. 

The Turks and Tugendheim I saw placed in the midst of all the otherunmounted men, and ordered them guarded like felons; and I badethose in charge of mules and horses stand by, ready to muzzle theirbeasts with coats or what-not, to prevent neighing and braying. ThenI returned to the top of the rise and lay down, praying to God, witha trooper beside me who might run and try to shake Ranjoor Singhback to life in case of direst need. 

I lay and heard my heart beat like a drum against the ground, praying one moment, and with the next breath cursing some hoof-beatfrom behind me and the muffled reprimand that was certain to followit. The men were as afraid as I, and the thing I feared most of allwas panic. Yet what more could I do than I had done? I lay andwatched the camels, and every step that brought them nearer feltlike a link in a chain that bound us all. 

One thing became perfectly evident before long. There were not morethan two hundred camels, therefore in a fight we should be able tobeat them off easily. But unless we could ambuscade them (and therewas no time to prepare that now) it would be impossible to kill orcapture them all. Some would get away and those would carry thealarm to the nearest military post. Then gone would be all hope forus of evading capture or destruction. But it was also obvious to methat no such caravan would come straight on toward us at such speedif it knew of our existence or our whereabouts. They expected us aslittle as we expected them. 

So I lay still, trembling, wondering what Ranjoor Singh would say tome, supposing he did not die in the cart there--wondering what thematter might be with Ranjoor Singh--wondering what I should dosupposing he did die and we escaped from this present predicament. Iknew there was little hope of my maintaining discipline withoutRanjoor Singh's aid. And I had not the least notion whither to lead, unless toward Russia. 

Such thoughts made me physically sick, so that it was relief to turnaway from them and watch the oncoming caravan, especially as I beganto suspect it would not come within a mile of us. Presently I beganto be certain that it would cross our track rather less than a mileaway. I began to whisper to myself excitedly. Then at last "Yes!"said I, aloud. 

"Yes!" said a voice beside me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, "unless they suspect the track of our cart-wheels and follow it up, we are all right!"

I looked round into the eyes of Ranjoor Singh, and felt my wholeskin creep like a snake's at sloughing time!

"Sahib!" said I. 

"You have done well enough, " said he, "except that if attacked youwould have hard work to gather your forces and control them. Butnever mind, you did quite well enough for this first time!" saidRanjoor Singh. 

"Sahib!" I said. "But I thought you were in a cart, dying!"

"In a cart, yes!" he said. "Dying, no--although that was no fault ofsomebody's!"

I begged him to explain, and while we watched the camels cross ourtrack--(God knows, sahib, why they did not grow suspicious andfollow along it)--he told me how he had sat on the great rock, notvery sleepy, but thinking, chin on knee, when suddenly some mancrawled up from behind and struck him a heavy blow. 

"Feel my head, " said he, and I felt under his turban. There was abruise the size of my folded fist. I swore--as who would not? "Is itdeep?" I said, still watching the camels, and before he answered mehe sent the trooper to go and find his horse. 

"Superficial, " he said then. "By the favor of God but a waterbruise. My head must have yielded beneath the blow. "

"Who struck it?" said I, scarcely thinking what I said, for my mindwas full of the camels, now flank toward us, that would have servedour purpose like the gift of God could we only have contrived tocapture them. 

"How should I know?" he answered. "See--they pass within a half-mileof where I sat. Is not that the rock?" And I said yes. 

"Had you lingered there, " he said, "word about us would have goneback to Angora at top camel speed. What possessed you to come away?"

"God!" said I, and he nodded, so that I began to preen myself. Henoticed my gathering self-esteem. 

"Nevertheless, " he said, aloud, but as if talking to himself, yetcareful that I should hear, "had this not happened to me I shouldhave seen those camels on the sky-line. Did you count the camels?"

"Two hundred and eight, " said I. 

"How many armed men with them?" he asked. "My eyes are yet dim fromthe blow. "

"One hundred and four, " said I, "and an officer or two. "

He nodded. "The prisoners would have been a nuisance, " he said, "yetwe might have used them later. What with camels and what withhorses--and there is a good spot for an ambuscade through which theymust pass presently--I went and surveyed it while they cooked mydinner--never mind, never mind!" said he. "If you had made a mistakeit would have been disastrous. Yet--two hundred and eight camelswould have been an acquisition--a great acquisition!"

So my self-esteem departed--like water from a leaky goatskin, and Ilay beside him watching the last dozen camels cross our trail, thenose of one tied to the tail of another, one man to every two. I layconjecturing what might have been our fate had I had cunning enoughto capture that whole caravan, and not another word was spokenbetween us until the last two camels disappeared beyond a ridge. Then:

"Was there any man close by, when you found me?" asked RanjoorSingh. 

"Nay, sahib, " said I. 

"Was there any man whose actions, or whose words, gave ground forsuspicion?" he asked. 

"Nay, sahib, " I began; but I checked myself, and he noticed it. 

"Except--?" said he. 

"Except that when Gooja Singh came, " I said, "he seemed unwilling tobelieve you were asleep. "

"How long was it before Gooja Singh came?" he asked. 

"He came almost before I had laid you under the tree and coveredyou, " said I. 

"And you told him I was asleep?" he said. 

"Yes, " said I; and at that he laughed silently, although I couldtell well enough that his head ached, and merriment must have been along way from him. 

"Has Gooja Singh any very firm friend with us?" he asked, and Ianswered I did not know of one. "The ammunition bearers who were hisfriends now curse him to his face, " I said. 

"Then he would have to do his own dirty work?" said he. 

"He has to clean his own rifle, " I answered. And Ranjoor Singhnodded. 

Then suddenly his meaning dawned on me. "You think it was GoojaSingh who struck the blow?" I asked. We were sitting up by thattime. The camels were out of sight. He rose to his feet and beckonedfor his horse before he answered. 

"I wished to know who else might properly be suspected, " he said, taking his horse's bridle. So I beckoned for my horse, and orderingthe cart in which he had lain to be brought along after us, I rodeat a walk beside him to where our infantry were left in hiding. 

"Sahib, " I said, "it is better after all to shoot this Gooja Singh. Shoot him on suspicion!" I urged. "He makes only trouble andill-will. He puts false construction on every word you or I utter. Hemisleads the men. And now you suspect him of having tried to killyou! Bid me shoot him, sahib, and I obey!"

"Who says I suspect him?" he answered. "Nay, nay, nay! I will haveno murder done--no drumhead tyranny, fathered by the lees of fear!Let Gooja Singh alone!"

"Does your head not ache?" I asked him. 

"More than you guess!" said he. "But my heart does not ache. Twoaches would be worse than one. Come silently!"

So I rode beside him silently, and making a circuit and signaling tothe watchers not to betray our presence, we came on our hidinginfantry unsuspected by them. We dismounted, and going close on footwere almost among them before they knew. Gooja Singh was on his feetin their midst, giving them information and advice. 

"I tell you Ranjoor Singh is dead!" said he. "Hira Singh swears heis only asleep, but Hira Singh lies! Ranjoor Singh lies dead on topof the corn in the cart in yonder gully, and Hira Singh--"

I know not what more he would have said, but Ranjoor Singh stoppedhim. He stepped forward, smiling. 

"Ranjoor Singh, as you see, is alive, " he said, "and if I am dead, then I must be the ghost of Ranjoor Singh come among you to enforcehis orders! Rise!" he ordered. "Rise and fall in! Havildars, makeall ready to resume the march!"

"Shoot him, sahib!" I urged, taking out my pistol, that had oncebeen Tugendheim's. "Shoot him, or let me do it!"

"Nay, nay!" he said, laughing in my face, though not unkindly. "I amnot afraid of him. "

"But I, sahib, " I said. "I fear him greatly!"

"Yet thou and I be two men, and I command, " he answered gently. "LetGooja Singh alone. "

So I went and grew very busy ordering the column. In twenty minuteswe were under way, with a screen of horsemen several hundred yardsahead and another little mounted rear-guard. But when the order hadbeen given to resume the march and the carts were squeaking along insingle file, I rode to his side again with a question. I had beenthinking deeply, and it seemed to me I had the only answer to mythoughts. 

"Tell me, sahib, " I said, "our nearest friends must be the Russians. How many hundred miles is it to Russia?"

But he shook his head and laughed again. "Between us and Russia liesthe strongest of all the Turkish armies, " he said. "We could neverget through. "

"I am a true man!" I said. "Tell me the plan!" But he only nodded, and rode on. 

"God loves all true men, " said he. 

CHAPTER VI

Where the weakest joint is, smite. --RANJOOR SINGH. 

Well, sahib, Abraham caught up with us on the evening of the thirdday after leaving with that letter to the Germans in Angora, havingridden moderately to spare his horse. He said there were only twoGerman officers there when he reached the place, and they seemedworried. They gave him the new saddle asked for, and a new horseunder it; also a letter to carry back. Ranjoor Singh gave me thehorse and saddle, letting Abraham take my sorry beast, that wasbeginning to recover somewhat under better treatment. 

Ranjoor Singh smiled grimly as he read the letter. He translatedparts of it to me--mainly complaints about lack of this and that andthe other thing, and very grave complaints against the Turks, who, it seemed, would not cooperate. You would say that was good news toall of us, that should have inspired us with new spirit. But as Isaid in the beginning, sahib, there are reasons why the British mustrule India yet a while. We Sikhs, who would rule it otherwise, areall divided. 

We were seven non-commissioned officers. If we seven had stoodunited behind Ranjoor Singh there was nothing we could not havedone, for the men would then have had no example of disunity. Youmay say that Ranjoor Singh was our rightful officer and we had onlyto obey him, but I tell you, sahib, obedience that is worth anythingmust come from the heart and understanding. Ranjoor Singh was asmuch dependent on good-will as if we had had the choosing of him. Sohe had to create it, and that which has once been lost, for whateverreason, is doubly and redoubly hard to make again. He did what hedid in spite of us, although I tried to help. 

Of us seven, first in seniority came I; and as I have tried alreadyto make clear I was Ranjoor. Singh's man (not that he believed italtogether yet). If he had ordered me to make black white, I wouldhave perished in the effort to obey; but I had yet to prove that. 

Next in order to me was Gooja Singh, and although I have spared theregiment's shame as much as possible, I doubt not that man's spirithas crept out here and there between my words--as a smell creepsfrom under coverings. He hated me, being jealous. He hated RanjoorSingh, because of merited rebuke and punishment. He was all forhimself, and if one said one thing, he must say another, lest thefirst man get too much credit. Furthermore, he was a BADMASH, [Footnote: Low ruffian. ] born of a money-lender's niece to a manmean enough to marry such. Other true charges I could lay againsthim, but my tale is of Ranjoor Singh and why should I sully it withmean accounts; Gooja Singh must trespass in among it, but let thatbe all. 

Third of us daffadars in order of seniority was Anim Singh, a bigman, born in the village next my father's. He was a naik in theTirah in '97 when he came to the rescue of an officer, splitting theskull of an Orakzai, wounding three others, and making prisoner afourth who sought to interfere. Thus he won promotion, and he heldit after somewhat the same manner. A blunt man. A fairly good man. Avery good man with the saber. A gambler, it is true--but whoseaffair is that? A ready eye for rustling curtains and footholds nearopen windows, but that is his affair again--until the woman'shusband intervenes. And they say he can look after himself in suchcases. At least, he lives. Behold him, sahib. Aye, that is heyonder, swaggering as if India can scarcely hold him--that one withhis arm in a sling. A Sikh, sahib, with a soldier's heart and earstoo big for his head--excellent things on outpost, where the littlenoises often mean so much, but all too easy for Gooja Singh towhisper into. 

Of the other four, the next was Ramnarain Singh, the shortest as toinches of us all, but perhaps the most active on his feet. A manwith a great wealth of beard and too much dignity due to hisfather's THALUKDARI [Footnote: Landed estate. ] His father pocketsthe rent of three fat villages, so the son believes himself awisehead. A great talker. Brave in battle, as one must be to bedaffadar of Outram's Own, but too assertive of his own opinion. Heand Gooja Singh were ever at outs, resentful of each other's claimto wisdom. 

Next was Chatar Singh, like me, son and grandson of a soldier of theraj--a bold man, something heavy on his horse, but able to sever asheep in two with one blow of his saber--very well regarded by thetroopers because of physical strength and willingness to overlookoffenses. Chatar Singh's chief weakness was respect for cunning. Having only a great bull's heart in him and ability to go forwardand endure, he regarded cunning as very admirable; and so GoojaSingh had one daffadar to work on from the outset (although I didwhat I could to make trouble between them). 

The remaining two non-commissioned officers were naiks--corporals, as you would say--Surath Singh and Mirath Singh, both ratherrecently promoted from the ranks and therefore likely to see bothsides to a question (whereas a naik should rightly see but one). Very early I had taken those two naiks in hand, showing themfriendship, harping on the honor and pleasure of being daffadar andon the chance of quick promotion. 

Given a British commanding officer--just one British officer--even alittle young one--one would have been enough--it would have beenhard to find better backing for him. Even Gooja Singh would scarcelyhave failed a British leader. But not only was the feeling stillstrong against Ranjoor Singh; there was another cloud in the sky. Did the sahib ever lay his hands on loot? No? Ah! Love of that runsin the blood, and crops out generation after generation!

Until the British came and overthrew our Sikh kingdom--and that wasnot long ago--loot was the staff of life of all Sikh armies. Inthose days when an army needed pay there was a war. Now, except forone month's pay that, as I have told, the Germans had given us, wehad seen no money since the day when we surrendered in that Flanderstrench; and what the Germans gave us Ranjoor Singh took away, inorder to bribe the captain of a Turkish ship. And Gooja Singh sworemorning, noon and night that as prisoners of war we should not beentitled to pay from the British in any event, even supposing wecould ever contrive to find the British and rejoin them. 

"Let us loot, then, and pay ourselves!" was the unanimous verdict, Ibeing about the only one who did not voice it. I claim no credit. Isaw no loot, so what was the use of talking? We were crossing adesert where a crow could have found small plunder. But being bycommon consent official go-between I rode to Ranjoor Singh's sideand told him what the men were saying. 

"Aye, " he nodded, not so much as looking sidewise, "any one wouldknow they are saying that. What say the Turk and Tugendheim?"

"Loot, too!" said I, and he grunted. 

It was this way, sahib. Our Turkish officer prisoner was always putwith his forty men to march in front--behind our advance guard butin front of the carts and infantry. Thus there was no risk of hisescaping, because for one thing he had no saddle and rode with muchdiscomfort and so unsafely that he preferred to march on foot moreoften than not; and for another, that arrangement left him never outof sight of nearly all of us. One of us daffadars would generallymarch beside him, and some of the Syrian muleteers had learnedEnglish either in Egypt or the Levant ports, so that there was nolack of interpreters. I myself have marched beside the Turk formiles and miles on end, with Abraham translating for us. 

"Why not loot? Who can prevent you? Who shall call you to account?"was the burden of the Turk's song. 

And Tugendheim, who spoke our tongue fluently, marched as a ruleamong the men, or rode with the mounted men, watched day and nightby the four troopers who had charge of him--better mounted than he, and very mindful of their honor in the matter. He made himself asagreeable as he could, telling tales about his life in India--notproper tales to tell to a sahib, but such as to make the trooperslaugh; so that finally the things he said began to carry the weightthat goes with friendliness. He soon discovered what the feeling wastoward Ranjoor Singh, and somehow or other he found out what theTurk was talking about. After that he took the Turk's cue (althoughhe sincerely despised Turks) and began with hint and jest topropagate lust for loot in the men's minds. Partly, I think, heplanned to enrich himself and buy his way to safety--(although Godknows in which direction he thought safety lay!). Partly, I think, he hoped to bring us to destruction, and so perhaps offset hisoffense of having yielded to our threats, hoping in that way torehabilitate himself. So goes a lawyer to court, sure of a fee ifhis client wins, yet sure, too, of a fee if his client loses, enjoying profit and entertainment in any event. Yet who shall blameTugendheim? Unlike a lawyer, he stood to take the consequences ifboth forks of the stick should fail. I told Ranjoor Singh all thatTugendheim and the Turk were saying to the men, and his browdarkened, although he made no comment. He did not trust me yet anymore than he felt compelled to. 

"Send Abraham to me, " he said at last. So I went and sent Abraham, feeling jealous that the Syrian should hear what I might not. 

Ranjoor Singh had been forcing the pace, and by the time I speak ofnow we had nearly crossed that desert, for a rim of hills was infront of us and all about. It was not true desert, such as we havein our Punjab, but a great plain already showing promise of thespring, with the buds of countless flowers getting ready to burstopen; when we lay at rest it amused us to pluck them and try todetermine what they would look like when their time should come. Andbesides flowers there were roots, remarkably good to eat, that theSyrians called "daughters of thunder, " saying that was the localname. Tugendheim called them truffles. A little water and thatdesert would be fertile farm-land, or I never saw corn grow!

Ranjoor Singh conversed with Abraham until we entered a defilebetween the hills; and that night we camped in a little valley withour outposts in a ring around us, Ranjoor Singh sitting by a brightfire half-way up the side of a slope where he could overlook us alland be alone. We had seen mounted men two or three times that day, they mistaking us perhaps for Turkish troops, for they vanishedafter the first glimpse. Nevertheless, we tethered our horses closein the valley bottom, and lay around them, ready for allcontingencies. 

I remember that night well, for it was the first since we startedeastward in the least to resemble our Indian nights. It made us feelhomesick, and some of the men were crooning love-songs. The starsswung low, looking as if a man could almost reach them, and thesmoke of our fires hung sweet on the night air. I was listening toAbraham's tales about Turks--tales to make a man bite his beard--whenRanjoor Singh called me in a voice that carried far withoutmaking much noise. (I have never known him to raise his voice sohigh or loud that it lost dignity. ) "Hira Singh!" he called, and Ianswered "Ha, sahib!" and went clambering up the hill. 

He let me stand three minutes, reading my eyes through the darkness, before he motioned me to sit. So then we sat facing, I on one sideof the fire and he the other. 

"I have watched you, Hira Singh, " he said at last. "Now and again Ihave seemed to see a proper spirit in you. Nay, words are butfragments of the wind!" said he. (I had begun to make himprotestations. ) "There are words tossing back and forth below, " hesaid, looking past me down into the hollow, where shadows of menwere, and now and then the eye of a horse would glint in firelight. Then he said quietly, "The spirit of a Sikh requires deeds of us. "

"Deeds in the dark?" said I, for I hoped to learn more of what wasin his mind. 

"Should a Sikh's heart fail him in the dark?" he asked. 

"Have I failed you, " said I, "since you came to us in the prisoncamp?"

"Who am I?" said he, and I did not answer, for I wondered what hemeant. He said no more for a minute or two, but listened to ourpickets calling their numbers one to another in the dark above us. 

"If you serve me, " he said at last, "how are you better than thestable-helper in cantonments who groomed my horse well for his ownbelly's sake? I can give you a full belly, but your honor is yourown. How shall I know your heart?"

I thought for a long while, looking up at the stars. He was notimpatient, so I took time and considered well, understanding himnow, but pained that he should care nothing for my admiration. 

"Sahib, " I said finally, "by this oath you shall know my heart. Should I ever doubt you, I will tear out your heart and lay it on adung-hill. "

"Good!" said he. But I remember he made me no threat in return, sothat even to this day I wonder how my words sounded in his ears. Iam left wondering whether I was man enough to dare swear such anoath. If he had sworn me a threat in return I should have felt moreat ease--more like his equal. But who would have gained by that? Myheart and my belly are not one. Self-satisfaction would not havehelped. 

"Soon, " he said, looking into my eyes beside the fire, "we shallmeet opportunities for looting. Yet we have food enough for men andmules and horses for many a day to come; and as the corn grows lessmore men can ride in the carts, so that we shall move the swifter. But now this map of mine grows vague and our road leads more andmore into the unknown. We need eyes ahead of us. I can control themen if I stay with them, but in that case who shall ride on andprocure intelligence?"

In a flash I saw his meaning. There was none but he wise enough toride ahead. But who else could control the men--men who believedthey had sloughed the regiment's honor in a Flanders trench and aGerman prison camp? They were sloughing their personal honor thatminute, fraternizing with Turkish prisoners. With their sense ofhonor gone, could even Ranjoor Singh control them? Perhaps! But ifRanjoor Singh rode forward, who should stay behind and stand in hisshoes?

I looked at the stars, that had the color of jewels in them. Ilistened to the night birds. I heard the wind soughing--the mulesand horses stamping--the murmur of men's voices. My tongue itched tosay some foolish word, that would have proved me unfit to be trustedout of sight. But the thought came to me to be still and listen. Andstill I remained until he began again. 

"If I told the men what the true position is they would growdesperate, " he said. "They would believe the case hopeless. "

"They almost believe that now!" said I. 

"Have the Turk and Tugendheim been kept apart?" said he. 

"Aye, " I answered. "They have not had ten words together. "

"Good, " said he. "Neither Turk nor Tugendheim knows the whole truth, but if they get together they might concoct a very plausible, misleading tale. "

"They would better have been bound and gagged, " said I. 

"No, " he answered. "If I had bound and gagged them it would haveestablished sympathy between them, and they would have found someway of talking nevertheless. Kept apart and let talk, the Turk willsay one thing, Tugendheim another. "

"True, " said I. "For now the Turk advises plunder to right and left, and settlement afterward among Armenian villages. He says there arewomen to be had for the taking. 'Be a new nation!' says he. "

"And what says Tugendheim?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"'Plunder!'" said I. "'Plunder and push northward into Russia! TheRussians will welcome you, ' says he, 'and perhaps accept me intotheir secret service!--Plunder the Turks!' says Tugendheim. 'Plunderthe Armenians!' says the Turk. "

"I, too, would be all for Russia, " he answered, "but it isn'tpossible. The coast of the Black Sea, and from the Black Sea down tothe Persian frontier, is held by a very great Turkish army. The maincaravan routes lie to the north of us, and every inch of them iswatched. "

"I am glad then that it must be Egypt, " said I. "A long march, butfriends at the other end. Who but doubts Russians?"

He shook his head. "Syria and Palestine, " he said, "are full of anarmy gathering to invade Egypt. It eats up the land like locusts. Anelephant could march easier unseen into a house than we into Syria!"

"So we must double back?" said I. "Good! By now they must haveceased looking for us, supposing they ever thought us anything butdrowned. Somewhere we can surely find a ship in which to cross toGallipoli!"

He laughed and shook his head again. "We slipped through the oneunguarded place, " he said. "If we had come one day later that place, too, would have been held by some watchful one, instead of by thefool we found in charge. "

Then at last I thought surely I knew what his objective MUST be. Ithad been common talk in Flanders how an expedition marched fromBasra up the Tigris. 

"Bagdad!" I said. "We march to Bagdad to join the British there!Bagdad is good!"

But he answered, "Bagdad is not yet taken--not yet nearly taken. Between us and Bagdad lies a Turkish army of fifty or sixty thousandmen at least. "

I sat silent. I can draw a map of the world and set the rivers andcities and boundaries down; so I knew that if we could go neithernorth--nor south--nor westward, there remained only eastward, straight-forward into Persia. He read my thoughts, and nodded. 

"Persia is neutral, " he said, with a wave of his hand that mightmean anything. "The Turks have spared no army for one section of thePersian frontier, choosing to depend on savage tribes. And theGermans have given them Wassmuss to help out. "

"Ah!" said I, making ready to learn at last who Wassmuss might be. "When we have found this Wassmuss, are we to make him march with uslike Tugendheim?"

"If what the Germans in Stamboul said of him is only half-true, " heanswered, "we shall find him hard to catch. Wassmuss is a remarkableman. Before the war he was consul in Bagdad or somewhere, and hemust have improved his time, for he knows enough now to keep all thetribes stirred up against Russians and British. The Germans send himmoney, and he scatters it like corn among the hens; but the moneywould be little use without brains. The Germans admire him greatly, and he certainly seems a man to be wondered at. But he is the oneweak point, nevertheless--the only key that can open a door for us. "

"But if he is too wary to be caught?" said I. 

"Who knows?" he answered with another of those short gruff laughs. "But I know this, " said he, "that from afar hills look like a blankwall, yet come closer and the ends of valleys open. Moreover, wherethe weakest joint is, smite! So I shall ride ahead and hunt for thatweakest joint, and you shall shepherd the men along behind me. Goand bring Abraham and the Turk!"

I went and found them. Abraham was already asleep, no longer wearingthe Turkish private soldier's uniform but his own old clothes again(because, the Turkish soldier having done nothing meritingpunishment, Ranjoor Singh had ordered him his uniform returned). Iawoke him and together we went and found the Turk sitting between aSyrian and Gooja Singh; and although I did not overhear one word ofwhat they were saying, I saw that Gooja Singh believed I had beenlistening. It seemed good to me to let him deceive himself, so Ismiled as I touched the Turk's shoulder. 

"Lo! Here is our second-in-command!" sneered Gooja Singh, but Iaffected not to notice. 

"Come!" said I, showing the Turk slight courtesy, and, getting upclumsily like a buffalo out of the mud, he followed Abraham and me. Some of the men made as if to come, too, out of curiosity, but GoojaSingh recalled them and they clustered round him. 

When I had brought the Turk uphill to the fire-side, Ranjoor Singhhad only one word to say to him. 

"Strip!" he ordered. 

Aye, sahib! There and then, without excuse or explanation, he madethe Turkish officer remove his clothes and change with Abraham; andI never saw a man more unwilling or resentful! Abraham had told meall about Turkish treatment of Syrians, and it is the way of theworld that men most despise those whom they most ill-treat. So thatalthough Turks have no caste distinctions that I know of, that onefelt like a high-caste Brahman ordered to change garments with asweeper. He looked as if he would infinitely rather die. 

"Hurry!" Ranjoor Singh ordered him in English. 

"HURRIET?" said the Turk. HURRIET is their Turkish for LIBERTY. Allthe troops in Stamboul used it constantly, and Ranjoor Singh told meit means much the same as the French cry of "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity!" The Turk seemed bewildered, and opened his eyes widerthan ever; but whatever his thoughts were about "HURRIET" he rightlyinterpreted the look in Ranjoor Singh's eye and obeyed, grimacinglike a monkey as he drew on Abraham's dirty garments. 

"You shall wear the rags of a driver of mules if you talk any moreabout loot to your men or mine!" said Ranjoor Singh. "If I proposedto loot, I would bury you for a beginning, lest there be nothing forthe rest of us!"

He made Abraham translate that into Turkish, lest the full gist ofit be lost, and I sat comparing the two men. It was strange to seewhat a change the uniform made in Abraham's appearance--what achange, too, came over the Turk. Had I not known, I could never haveguessed the positions had once been reversed. Abraham looked like anofficer. The Turk looked like a peasant. He was a big up-standingman, although with pouches under his eyes that gave the lie to hislook of strength. Now for the first time Ranjoor Singh set a pickedguard over him, calling out the names of four troopers who camehurrying uphill through the dark. 

"Let your honor and this man's ward be one!" said he, and theyanswered "Our honor be it!"

He could not have chosen better if he had lined up the regiment andtaken half a day. Those four were troopers whom I myself had singledout as men to be depended on when a pinch should come, and Iwondered that Ranjoor Singh should so surely know them, too. 

"Take him and keep him!" he ordered, and they went off, not at allsorry to be excused from other duties, as now of course they mustbe. Counting the four who guarded Tugendheim, that made a total ofeight troopers probably incorruptible, for there is nothing, sahib, that can compare with imposing a trust when it comes to making sureof men's good faith. Hedge them about with precautions and they willrevolt or be half-hearted; impose open trust in them, and if they bewell-chosen they will die true. 

"Now, " said he to me when they were out of hearing, "I shall takewith me one daffadar, one naik, and forty mounted men. Sometimes Ishall take Abraham, sometimes Tugendheim, sometimes the Turk. Thistime I shall take the Turk, and before dawn I shall be gone. Let itbe known that the best behaved of those I leave with you shall bepromoted to ride with me--just as my unworthy ones shall be degradedto march on foot with you. That will help a little. "

"Aye, " said I, "a little. Which daffadar will you take? That willhelp more!" said I. 

"Gooja Singh, " he answered, and I marveled. 

"Sahib, " I said, "take him out of sight and bury his body! Make anend!" I urged. "In Flanders they shot men against a wall for farless than he has talked about!"

"Flanders is one place and this another, " he answered. "Should Imake those good men more distrustful than they are? Should I shootGooja Singh unless I am afraid of him?"

I said no more because I knew he was right. If he should shoot GoojaSingh the troopers would ascribe it to nothing else than fear. ABritish officer might do it and they would say, "Behold how hescorns to shirk responsibility!" Yet of Ranjoor Singh they wouldhave said, "He fears us, and behold the butchery begins! Who shallbe next?" Nevertheless, had I stood in his shoes, I would have shotand buried Gooja Singh to forestall trouble. I would have shot GoojaSingh and the Turk and Tugendheim all three with one volley. And theTurk's forty men would have met a like fate at the first excuse. Butthat is because I was afraid, whereas Ranjoor Singh was not. Igreatly feared being left behind to bring the men along, and themore I thought of it, the worse the prospect seemed; so I began totell of things I had heard Gooja Singh say against him, and which ofthe men I had heard and seen to agree, for there is no good sense ina man who is afraid. 

"Is it my affair to take vengeance on them, or to lead them intosafety?" he asked. And what could I answer?

After some silence he spread out his map where firelight shone on itand showed Abraham and me where the Tigris River runs by Diarbekr. "Thus, " he said, "we must go, " pointing with his finger, "and thus--andthus--by Diarbekr, down by the Tigris, by Mosul, into Kurdistan, to Sulimanieh, and thence into Persia--a very long march throughvery wild country. Outside the cities I am told no Turk dare showhimself with less than four hundred men at his back, so we will keepto the open. If the Turks mistake us for Turks, the better for us. If the tribes mistake us for Turks, the worse for us; for they saythe tribes hate Turks worse than smallpox. If they think we areTurks they will attack us. We need ride warily. "

"It would take more Turks than there are, " I said, "to keep ourruffians from trying to plunder the first city they see! And as fortribes--they are in a mood to join with any one who will help maketrouble!"

"Then it may be, " he answered quietly, "that they will not lackexercise! Follow me and lend a hand!" And he led down toward thecamp-fires, where very few men slept and voices rose upward like thenoise of a quarrelsome waterfall. 

Just as on that night when we captured the carts and Turks andSyrians, he now used the cover of darkness to reorganize; and thevery first thing he did was to make the forty Turkish prisonerschange clothes with Syrians--the Turks objecting with much badlanguage and the Syrians not seeming to relish it much, for fear, Isuppose, of reprisals. But he made the Turks hand over their rifles, as well, to the Syrians; and then, of all unlikely people he choseTugendheim to command the Syrians and to drill them and teach themdiscipline! He set him to drilling them there and then, with a rowof fires to see by. 

In the flash of an eye, as you might say, we had thus fifty extrainfantry, ten of them neither uniformed nor armed as yet, but all ofthem at least afraid to run away. Tugendheim looked doubtful for aminute, but he was given his choice of that, or death, or of wearinga Syrian's cast-off clothes and driving mules. He well understood(for I could tell by his manner of consenting) that Ranjoor Singhwould send him into action against the first Turks we could find, thus committing him to further treason against the Central Powers;but he had gone too far already to turn back. 

And as for the Syrians-they had had a lifetime's experience ofTurkish treatment, and had recently been taught to associate Germanswith Turks; so if Tugendheim should meditate treachery it wasunlikely his Syrians would join him in it. It was promotion to a newlife for them--occupation for Tugendheim, who had been growing boredand perhaps dangerous on that account--and not so dreadfullydistressing to the Turkish soldiers, who could now ride on the cartsinstead of marching on weary feet. They had utterly no ambition, those Turkish soldiers; they cared neither for their officer (whichwas small wonder) nor for the rifles that we took away, whichsurprised us greatly (for in the absence of lance or saber, weregarded our rifles as evidence of manhood). They objected to thedirty garments they received in exchange for the uniforms, and theydespised us Sikhs for men without religion (so they said!); but itdid not seem to trouble them whether they fought on one side or theother, or whether they fought at all, so long as they had cigarettesand food. Yet I did not receive the impression they were cowards--brutes, perhaps, but not cowards. When they came under fire later onthey made no effort to desert with the carts to their own side; andwhen we asked them why, they said because we fed them! They addedthey had not been paid for more than eighteen months. 

Why did not Ranjoor Singh make this arrangement sooner, you ask. Whydid he wait so long, and then choose the night of all times? Not allthoughts are instantaneous, sahib; some seem to develop out ofpatience and silence and attention. Moreover, it takes time forcaptured men to readjust their attitude--as the Germans, forinstance, well knew when they gave us time for thought in the prisoncamp at Oescherleben. When we first took the Syrians prisoner theywere so tired and timid as to be worthless for anything but drivingcarts, whereas now we had fed them and befriended them. On the otherhand, in the beginning, the Turks, if given a chance, would havestampeded with the carts toward Angora. 

Now that both Turks and Syrians had grown used to being prisonersand to obeying us, they were less likely to think independently--inthe same way that a new-caught elephant in the keddah is frenziedand dangerous, but after a week or two is learning tricks. 

And as for choosing the night-time for the change, every soldierknows that the darkness is on the side of him whose plans are laid. He who is taken unawares must then contend with both ignorance anddarkness. Thieves prefer the dark. Wolves hunt in the dark. Fishermen fish in the dark. And the wise commander who would changehis dispositions makes use of darkness, too. Men who might disobeyby daylight are like lambs when they can not see beyond the light acamp-fire throws. 

But such things are mental, sahib, and not to be explained like thefire of heavy guns or the shock tactics of cavalry--although not oneatom less effective. If Ranjoor Singh had lined up the men andargued with them, there might have been mutiny. Instead, when hejudged the second ripe, he made sudden new dispositions in the nightand gave them something else to think about without suggesting totheir minds that he might be worried about them or suspicious ofthem. On the contrary, he took opportunity to praise someindividuals and distribute merited rewards. 

For instance, he promoted the two naiks, Surath Singh and MirathSingh, to be daffadars on probation, to their very great surpriseand absolute contentment. The four who guarded Tugendheim he raisedto the rank of naik, bidding them help Tugendheim drill the Syrianswithout relaxing vigilance over him. Then he chose six more troopersto be naiks. And of the eighty mounted men he degraded eighteen tomarch on foot again, replacing them with more obedient ones. Then atlast I understood why he had chosen some grumblers to ride in thefirst instance--simply in order that he might make room forpromotion of others at the proper time, offsetting discontent withemulation. 

Then of the eighty mounted men he picked the forty best. He gaveAbraham's saddle to Gooja Singh, set one of the new naiks over theleft wing, and Gooja Singh over the right wing of the forty, underhimself, and ordered rations for three days to be cooked and servedout to the forty, including corn for their horses. They had to carryit all in the knap-sacks on their own backs, since no one of themyet had saddles. 

Gooja Singh eyed me by firelight while this was going on, with histongue in his cheek, as much as to say I had been superseded andwould know it soon. When I affected not to notice he said aloud inmy hearing that men who sat on both sides of a fence were never onthe right side when the doings happen. And when I took no notice ofthat he asked me in a very loud voice whether my heart quailed atthe prospect of being left a mile or two behind. But I let him havehis say. Neither he, nor any of the men, had the slightest idea yetof Ranjoor Singh's real plan. 

After another talk with me Ranjoor Singh was to horse and away withhis forty an hour before daybreak, the Turkish officer ridingbareback in Syrian clothes between the four who had been set toguard him. And the sound of the departing hooves had scarcely ceaseddrumming down the valley when the men left behind with me began toput me to a test. Abraham was near me, and I saw him tremble andchange color. Sikh troopers are not little baa-lambs, sahib, to bedriven this and that way with a twig! Tugendheim, too, ready topreach mutiny and plunder, was afraid to begin lest they turn andtear him first. He listened with both ears, and watched with botheyes, but kept among his Syrians. 

"Whither has he gone?" the men demanded, gathering round me where Istooped to feel my horse's forelegs. And I satisfied myself thepuffiness was due to neither splint nor ring-bone before I answered. There was just a little glimmer of the false dawn, and what withthat and the dying fires we could all see well enough. I could seetrouble--out of both eyes. 

"Whither rides Ranjoor Singh?" they demanded. 

"Whither we follow!" said I, binding a strip from a Syrian'sloin-cloth round the horse's leg. (What use had the Syrian for it nowthat he wore uniform? And it served the horse well. )

A trooper took me by the shoulder and drew me upright. At anothertime he should have been shot for impudence, but I had learned alesson from Ranjoor Singh too recently to let temper get the betterof me. 

"Thou art afraid!" said I. "Thy hand on my shoulder trembles!"

The man let his hand fall and laughed to show himself unafraid. Before he could think of an answer, twenty others had thrust himaside and confronted me. 

"Whither rides Ranjoor Singh? Whither does he ride?" they asked. "Make haste and tell us!"

"Would ye bring him back?" said I, wondering what to say. RanjoorSingh had told me little more than that we were drawing near theneighborhood of danger, and that I was to follow warily along histrack. "God will put true thoughts in your heart, " he told me, "ifyou are a true man, and are silent, and listen. " His words weretrue. I did not speak until I was compelled. Consider the sequel, sahib. 

"Ye have talked these days past, " said I, "of nothing butloot--loot--loot! Ye have lusted like wolves for lowing cattle! Yet now yeask me whither rides Ranjoor Singh! Whither SHOULD he ride? He ridesto find bees for you whose stings have all been drawn, that ye maysuck honey without harm! He rides to find you victims that can notstrike back! Sergeant Tugendheim, " said I, "see that your Syrians donot fall over one another's rifles! March in front with them, " Iordered, "that we may all see how well you drill them! Fall in, all!" said I, "and he who wishes to be camp guard when the lootingbegins, let him be slow about obeying!"

Well, sahib, some laughed and some did not. The most dangerous saidnothing. But they all obeyed, and that was the main thing. Not morethan an hour and a half after Ranjoor Singh had ridden off our cartswere squeaking and bumping along behind us. And within an hour afterthat we were in action! Aye, sahib, I should say it was less than anhour after the start when I halted to serve out ten cartridgesapiece to the Syrians, that Tugendheim might blood them and gethimself into deeper water at the same time. He was angry that Iwould not give him more cartridges, but I told him his men wouldwaste those few, so why should I not be frugal? When the time came Idon't think the Syrians hit anything, but they filled a gap andserved a double purpose; for after Tugendheim had let them blazeaway those ten rounds a piece there was less fear than ever of hisdaring to attempt escape. Thenceforward his prospects and ours wereone. But my tale goes faster than the column did, that could travelno faster than the slowest man and the weakest mule. 

We were far in among the hills now--little low hills with broad openspaces between, in which thousands of cattle could have grazed. Onlythere were no cattle. I rode, as Ranjoor Singh usually did, twentyor thirty horses' length away on the right flank, well forward, where I could see the whole column with one quick turn of the head. I had ten troopers riding a quarter of a mile in front, and arear-guard of ten more, but none riding on the flanks because to our leftthe hills were steep and impracticable and to our right I couldgenerally see for miles, although not always. 

We dipped into a hollow, and I thought I heard rifle shots. I urgedmy horse uphill, and sent him up a steep place from the top of whichI had a fine view. Then I heard many shots, and looked, and lo abattle was before my eyes. Not a great battle--really only askirmish, although to my excited mind it seemed much more at first. And the first one I recognized taking his part in it was RanjoorSingh. 

I could see no infantry at all. About a hundred Turkish cavalry werebeing furiously attacked by sixty or seventy mounted men who lookedlike Kurds, and who turned out later really to be Kurds. The Kurdswere well mounted, riding recklessly, firing from horseback at fullgallop and wasting great quantities of ammunition. 

The shooting must have been extremely bad, for I could see neitherdead bodies nor empty saddles, but nevertheless the Turks appearedanxious to escape--the more so because Ranjoor Singh with his fortymen was heading them off. As I watched, one of them blew a trumpetand they all retreated helter-skelter toward us--straight toward us. There was nothing else they could do, now that they had given way. It was like the letter Y--thus, sahib, --see, I draw in the dust--theKurds coming this way at an angle--Ranjoor Singh and his fortycoming this way--and we advancing toward them all along the bottomstroke of the Y, with hills around forming an arena. The best theTurks could do would have been to take the higher ground where wewere and there reform, except for the fact that we had come on thescene unknown to them. Now that we had arrived, they were caught ina trap. 

There was plenty of time, especially as we were hidden from view, but I worked swiftly, the men obeying readily enough now that afight seemed certain. I posted Tugendheim with his Syrians in thecenter, with the rest of us in equal halves to right and left, keeping Abraham by me and giving Anim Singh, as next to me inseniority, command of our left wing. We were in a rough new moonformation, all well under cover, with the carts in a hollow to ourrear. By the time I was ready, the oncoming Turks were not much morethan a quarter of a mile away; and now I could see empty saddles atlast, for some of the Kurds had dismounted and were firing from theground with good effect. 

I gave no order to open fire until they came within three hundredyards of us. Then I ordered volleys, and the Syrians forthwith madea very great noise at high speed, our own troopers taking theirtime, and aiming low as ordered. We cavalrymen are not good shots asa rule, rather given, in fact, to despising all weapons except thelance and saber, and perhaps a pistol on occasion. But the practisein Flanders had worked wonders, and at our first volley seven oreight men rolled out of the saddles, the horses continuing to gallopon toward us. 

The surprise was so great that the Turks drew rein, and we gave themthree more volleys while they considered matters, bringing down anumber of them. They seemed to have no officer, and were muchconfused. Not knowing who we were, they turned away from us and madeas if to surrender to the enemy they did know, but the Kurds rode inon them and in less than five minutes there was not one Turk leftalive. My men were for rushing down to secure the loot, but itseemed likely to me that the Kurds might mistake that for hostilityand I prevailed on the men to keep still until Ranjoor Singh shouldcome. And presently I saw Ranjoor Singh ride up to the leader of theKurds and talk with him, using our Turkish officer prisoner asinterpreter. Presently he and the Kurdish chief rode together towardus, and the Kurd looked us over, saying nothing. (Ranjoor Singh toldme afterward that the Kurd wished to be convinced that we were manyenough to enforce fair play. )

The long and the short of it was that we received half the capturedhorses--that is, thirty-five, for some had been killed--and all thesaddles, no less than ninety of them, besides mauser rifles anduniforms for our ten unarmed Syrians. The Kurds took all theremainder, watching to make sure that the Syrians, whom we sent tohelp themselves to uniforms, took nothing else. When the Kurds hadfinished looting, they rode away toward the south without so much asa backward glance at us. 

I asked Ranjoor Singh how Turkish cavalry had come to let themselvesget caught thus unsupported, and he said he did not know. 

"Yet I have learned something, " he said. "I shot the Turkishcommander's horse myself, and my men pounced on him. Thatdemoralized his men and made the rest easy. Now, I have questionedthe Turk, and between him and the Kurdish chief I have discoveredgood reason to hurry forward. "

"I would weigh that Kurd's information twice!" said I. "He cut thoseTurks down in cold blood. What is he but a cutthroat robber?"

"Let him weigh what I told him, then, three times!" he answered witha laugh. "Have you any men hurt?"

"No, " said I. 

"Then give me a mile start, and follow!" he ordered. And in anotherminute he was riding away at the head of his forty, slowly for sakeof the horses, but far faster than I could go with all those ladencarts. And I had to give a start of much more than a mile because ofthe trouble we had in fitting the saddles to our mounts. I wished hehad left the captured Turkish officer behind to explain his nation'scursed saddle straps!

We rode on presently over the battle-ground; and although I haveseen looting on more than one battlefield I have never seen anythingso thorough as the work those Kurds had done. They had left the deadnaked, without a boot, or a sock, or a rag of cloth among them. Hereand there fingers had been hacked off, for the sake of rings, Isuppose. There were vultures on the wing toward the dead, somelooking already half-gorged, which made me wonder. I wondered, too, whither the Kurds had ridden off in such a hurry. What could behappening to the southward? Ranjoor Singh had gone due east. 

It was not long before Ranjoor Singh rode out of sight in a cloud ofdust, disappearing between two low hills that seemed to guard therim of the hollow we were crossing. At midday I let the column restin the cleft between those hills, not troubling to climb and lookbeyond because the men were turbulent and kept me watchful, and alsobecause I knew well Ranjoor Singh would send back word of any dangerahead. And so he did. I was sitting eating my own meal when hismessenger came galloping through the gap with a little slip oftwisted paper in his teeth. 

"Bring them along, " said the message. "Don't halt again until youovertake me. "

So I made every one of the mounted men take up a man behind, and therest of the unmounted men I ordered into the carts, includingTugendheim's Syrians, judging it better to overtax the animals thanto be too long on the road. And the long and short of that was thatwe overtook Ranjoor Singh at about four that afternoon. Our animalswere weary, but the men were fit to fight. 

Ranjoor Singh ordered Abraham to take the Syrians and all the cartsand horses down into a hollow where there was a water-hole, and towait there for further orders. Tugendheim was bidden come with us onfoot; and without any explanation he led us all toward a low ridgethat faced us, rising here and there into an insignificant hill. Itlooked like blown sand over which coarse grass had grown, and suchit proved to be, for it was on the edge of another desert. It wasfifty or sixty feet high, and rather difficult to climb, but he ledus straight up it, cautioning us to be silent and not to showourselves on the far side. On the top we crawled forward eighteen ortwenty yards on our bellies, until we lay at last gazing downward. It was plain then whence those half-gorged vultures came. 

Who shall describe what we saw? Did the sahib ever hear of Armenianmassacres? This was worse. If this had been a massacre we would haveknown what to do, for our Sikh creed bids us ever take the part ofthe oppressed. But this was something that we did not understand, that held us speechless, each man searching his own heart forexplanation, and Ranjoor Singh standing a little behind us watchingus all. 

There were hundreds of men, women and little children being herdedby Turks toward the desert--southward. The line was long drawn out, for the Armenians were weary. They had no food with them, no tents, and scarcely any clothing. Here and there, in parties at intervalsalong the line, rode Turkish soldiers; and when an Armenian, man orwoman or child, would seek to rest, a Turk would spur down on himand prick him back into line with his lance--man, woman or child, asthe case might be. Some of the Turks cracked whips, and when theydid that the Armenians who were not too far spent would shudder asif the very sound had cut their flesh. How did I know they wereArmenians? I did not know. I learned that afterward. 

Some wept. Some moaned. But the most were silent and dry-eyed, moving slowly forward like people in a dream. Oh, sahib, I have hadbad dreams in my day, and other men have told me theirs, but neverone like that!

There was a little water-hole below where we lay--the merest cupfulfed by a trickle from below the hill. Some of them gathered there toscoop the water in their hands and drink, and I saw a Turk rideamong them, spurring his horse back and forward until the water wasall foul mud. Nevertheless, they continued drinking until he andanother Turk flogged them forward. 

"Sahib!" said I, calling to Ranjoor Singh. "A favor, sahib!"

He came and lay beside me with his chin on his hand. "What is it?"said he. 

"The life of that Turk who trod the water into mud!" said I. "Let mehave the winding up of his career!"

"Wait a while!" said he. "Let the men watch. Watch thou the men!"

So I did watch the men, and I saw cold anger grow among them, likean anodyne, making them forget their own affairs. I began to wonderhow long Ranjoor Singh would dare let them lie there, unless perhapshe deliberately planned to stir them into uncontrol. But he waswiser than to do that. Just so far he meant their wrath should urgethem--so far and no further. He watched as one might watch a fuse. 

"Those Kurds of this morning, " he told me (never taking his eyes offthe men) "hurried off to the southward expecting to meet this veryprocession. Kurds hate Turks, and Turks fear Kurds, but in this theyare playing to and fro, each into the other's hands. The Turks driveArmenians out into the desert, where the Kurds come down on them andplunder. The Turks return for more Armenians, and so the game goeson. I learned all that from our Turkish officer we took thismorning. "

While he spoke a little child died not a hundred yards away fromwhere I lay. Its mother lay by it and wept, but a Turk spurred downand skewered the child's body on his lance, tossing it into themidst of a score of others who went forward dumbly. Another Turkriding along behind him thrashed the woman to her feet. 

"That ought to do, " said Ranjoor Singh, crawling backward out ofsight and then getting to his feet. Then he called us, and we allcrawled backward to the rear edge of the ridge. And there at last westood facing him. I saw Gooja Singh whispering in Anim Singh's greatear. Ranjoor Singh saw it too. 

"Stand forth, Gooja Singh!" he ordered. And Gooja Singh stood alittle forward from the others, half-truculent and half-afraid. 

"What do you want?" asked Ranjoor Singh. "Of what were youwhispering?" But Gooja Singh did not answer. 

"No need to tell me!" said Ranjoor Singh. "I know! Ye all seek leaveto loot! As sons of THALUKDARS [Footnote: Land holder]--as trustedsoldiers of the raj--as brave men--honorable men--ye seek to proveyourselves!"

They gasped at him--all of them, Tugendheim included. I tell you hewas a brave man to stand and throw that charge in the teeth of sucha regiment, not one man of whom reckoned himself less thangentleman. I looked to my pistol and made ready to go and die besidehim, for I saw that he had chosen his own ground and intended thereand then to overcome or fail. 

"Lately but one thought has burned in all your hearts, " he toldthem. "Loot! Loot! Loot! Me ye have misnamed friend of Germany--friendof Turkey--enemy of Britain! Yourselves ye call honorablemen!"

"Why not?" asked Gooja Singh, greatly daring because the men werelooking to him to answer for them. "Hitherto we have done noshameful thing!"

"No shameful thing?" said Ranjoor Singh. "Ye have called me traitorbehind my back, yet to my face ye have obeyed me these weeks past. Ye have used me while it served your purpose, planning to toss measide at the first excuse. Is that not shameful? Now we reach theplace where ye must do instead of talk. Below is the plunder ye haveyearned for, and here stand I, between it and you!"

"We have yearned for no such plunder as that!" said Gooja Singh, forthe men would have answered unless he did, and he, too, was mindedto make his bid for the ascendency. 

"No?" said Ranjoor Singh. "'No carrion for me!' said the jackal. 'Ionly eat what a tiger killed!'"

He folded his arms and stood quite patiently. None could mistake hismeaning. There was to be, one way or the other, a decision reachedon that spot as to who sought honor and who sought shame. He himselfsubmitted to no judgment. It was the regiment that stood on trial! Aweak man would have stood and explained himself. 

Presently Ramnarain Singh, seeing that Gooja Singh was likely to gettoo much credit with the men, took up the cudgels and stood forward. 

"Tell us truly, sahib, " he piped up. "Are you truly for the raj, oris this some hunt of your own on which you lead us?"

"Ye might have asked me that before!" said Ranjoor Singh. "Now yeshall answer me my question first! When I have your answer, I willgive you mine swiftly enough, in deeds not words! What is theoutcome of all your talk? Below there is the loot, and, as I said, here stand I between it and you! Now decide, what will ye!"

He turned his back, and that was bravery again; for under his eyethe men were used to showing him respect, whereas behind his backthey had grown used to maligning him. Yet he had thrown their shamein their very teeth because he knew their hearts were men's hearts. Turning his back on jackals would have stung them to worse dishonor. He would not have turned his back on jackals, he would have driventhem before him. 

It began to occur to the men that they once made me go-between, andthat it was my business to speak up for them now. Many of themlooked toward me. They began to urge me. Yet I feared to speak uplest I say the wrong thing. Once it had not been difficult topretend I took the men's part against Ranjoor Singh, but that was nolonger so easy. 

"What is your will?" said I at last, for Ranjoor Singh continued tokeep his back turned, and Gooja Singh and Rarnnarain were seeking toforestall each other. Anim Singh and Chatar Singh both strode up tome. 

"Tell him we will have none of such plunder as that!" they bothsaid. 

"Is that your will?" I asked the nearest men, and they said "Aye!"So I went along the line quickly, repeating the question, and theyall agreed. I even asked Tugendheim, and he was more emphatic thanthe rest. 

"Sahib!" I called to Ranjoor Singh. "We are one in this matter. Wewill have none of such plunder as that below!"

He turned himself about, not quickly, but as one who is far fromsatisfied. 

"So-ho! None of SUCH plunder!" said he. "What kind of plunder, then?What is the difference between the sorts of plunder in a strickenland?"

Gooja Singh answered him, and I was content that he should, for notonly did I not know the answer myself but I was sure that thequestion was a trap for the unwary. 

"We will plunder Turks, not wretches such as these!" said GoojaSingh. 

"Aha!" said Ranjoor Singh, unfolding his arms and folding themagain, beginning to stand truculently, as if his patience werewearing thin. "Ye will let the Turks rob the weak ones, in orderthat ye may rob the Turks! That is a fine point of honor! Ye poorlost fools! Have ye no better wisdom than that? Can ye draw no finerhairs? And yet ye dare offer to dictate to me, and to tell mewhether I am true or not! The raj is well served if ye are its bestsoldiers!"

He spat once, and turned his back again. 

"Ye have said we will have no such plunder!" shouted Gooja Singh, but he did not so much as acknowledge the words even by a movementof the head. Then Gooja Singh went whispering with certain of themen, those who from the first had been most partial to him, andpresently I saw they were agreed on a course. He stood forward witha new question. 

"Tell us whither you are leading?" he demanded. "Tell us the plan?"

Ranjoor Singh faced about. "In order that Gooja Singh may interfereand spoil the plan?" he asked, and Ramnarain Singh laughed very loudat that, many of the troopers joining. That made Gooja Singh angry, and he grew rash. 

"How shall we know, " he asked, "whither you lead or whether you betrue or not?"

"As to whither I lead, " said Ranjoor Singh, "God knows that betterthan I. At least I have led you into no traps yet. And as to whetherI am true or not, it is enough that each should know his own heart. I am for the raj!" And he drew his saber swiftly, came to thesalute, and kissed the hilt. 

Then I spoke up, for I saw my opportunity. "So are we for the raj!"said I. "We too, sahib!" And it was with difficulty then that Irestrained the men from bursting into cheers. Ranjoor Singh held hishand up, and we daffadars flung ourselves along the line commandingsilence. A voice or two--even a dozen men talking--were inaudible, but the Turks would have heard a cheer. 

"Ye?" said Ranjoor Singh. "Ye for the raj? I thought ye were all forloot?"

"Nay!" said Gooja Singh, for he saw his position undermined andbegan to grow fearful for consequences. "We are all for the raj, andall were for the raj from the first. It is you who are doubtful!"

He thought to arouse feeling again, but the contrast between the oneman and the other had been too strong and none gave him any backing. Ranjoor Singh laughed. 

"Have a care, Gooja Singh!" he warned. "I promised you court martialand reduction to the ranks should I see fit! To your place in therear!"

So Gooja Singh slunk back to his place behind the men and I judgedhim more likely than ever to be dangerous, although for the momentovercome. But Ranjoor Singh had not finished yet. 

"Then, on one point we are agreed, " he said. "We will make the mostof that. Let us salute our own loyalty to India, and the British andthe Allies, with determination to give one another credit at leastfor that in future! Pre--sent arms!"

So we presented arms, he kissing the hilt of his saber again; and itwas not until three days afterward that I overheard one of thetroopers saying that Gooja Singh had called attention to the fact ofits being a German saber. For the moment there was no more doubtamong us; and if Gooja Singh had not begun to be so fearful lestRanjoor Singh take vengeance on him there never would have beendoubt again. We felt warm, like men who had come in under cover fromthe cold. 

It was growing dusk by that time, and Ranjoor Singh bade us at onceto return to where the horses and Syrians waited in the hollow, hehimself continuing to sit alone on the summit of the ridge, considering matters. We had no idea what he would do next, and nonedared ask him, although many of the men urged me to go and ask. Butat nightfall he came striding down to us and left us no longer indoubt, for he ordered girths tightened and ammunition inspected. 

The Syrians had no part in that night's doings. They were biddenwait in the shadow of the ridge; with mules inspanned, and withTugendheim in charge we trusted them, to guard our Turkishprisoners. Tugendheim bit his nails and made as if to pull hismustache out by the roots, but we suffered no anxiety on hisaccount; his safety and ours were one. He had no alternative but toobey. 

Before the moon rose we sent our unmounted men to the top of theridge under Chatar Singh, and the rest of us rode in a circuit, through a gap that Ranjoor Singh had found, to the plain on the farside. 

The Turks had driven their convoy into the desert and had campedbehind them, nearly three hundred strong. They had made one big fireand many little ones, and looked extremely cheerful, what with thesmell of cooking and the dancing flame. Their horses were picketedtogether in five lines with only a few guards, so that their capturewas an easy matter. We caught them entirely by surprise and fell onthem from three sides at once, our foot-men from the ridgedelivering such a hot fire that some of us were hit. I looked longfor the Turk who had fouled the water, and for the other one who hadlanced the child's body, but failed to identify either of them. Ifound two who looked like them, crawling out from under a heap ofslain, and shot them through the head; but as to whether I slew theright ones or not I do not know. 

Three officers we made prisoner, making five that we had to carefor. The other officers were slain. We never knew how few or howmany Turks escaped under cover of darkness, but I suspect not morethan a dozen or two at the most. Whatever tale they told when theygot home again, it is pretty certain they gave the Kurds the blame, for, how should they suppose us to be anything except Kurds?

We took no loot except the horses and rifles. We stacked the riflesin a cart, picked the best horses, taking twenty-five spare oneswith us, and gave our worst horses to the Armenians to eat. We senta few Syrians in a hurry to warn the Armenians in the desert againstthose Kurds who had ridden to the south to intercept them, andtipped out two cartsful of corn that we could ill spare, putting ourwounded in the empty carts. We had one-and-twenty wounded, many ofthem by our own riflemen. 

Then we rode on into the night, Ranjoor Singh urging us to utmostspeed. The Armenians begged us to remain with them, or to take themwith us. Some clung to our stirrups, but we had to shake them loose. For what could we do more than we had done for them? Should we diewith them in the desert, serving neither them nor us? We gave themthe best advice we could and rode away. We bade them eat, andscatter, and hide. And I hope they did. 

We rode on, laughing to think that Kurds would be blamed for ourdoings, and wondering whether the Armenians had enough spirit leftto make use of the loot we did not touch. Some of us had lances now;a few had sabers; all had good mounts and saddles. We were likely tomiss the corn we had given away; but to offset that we had a newconfidence in Ranjoor Singh that was beyond price, and I sang as Irode. I sang the ANAND, our Sikh hymn of joy. I knew we were aregiment again at last. 

CHAPTER VII

Since when did god take sides against the brave?--RANJOOR SINGH. 

Did the sahib ever chance to hear that Persian proverb--"DUZD NEGIRIFTAH PADSHAH AST"? No? It means "The uncaught thief is king. "Ho! but thenceforward that was a campaign that suited us! None couldcatch us, for we could come and go like the night wind, and theTurks are heavy on their feet. We helped ourselves to what weneeded. And a reputation began to hurry ahead of us that madematters easier, for our numbers multiplied in men's imagination. 

The Turks whom we had recently defeated gave Kurds the credit forit, and after the survivors had crawled back home whole Turkishregiments were ordered out by telegraph to hunt for raiding Kurds, not us! We cut all the wires we could find uncut, real Kurds havingattended to the business already in most instances, and now, insteadof slipping unseen through the land we began to leave our signature, and do deliberate damage. 

None can beat Sikhs at such warfare as we waged across the breadthof Asiatic Turkey, and none could beat Ranjoor Singh as leader ofit. We could outride the Turks, outwit them, outfight them, andoutdare them. As the spring advanced the weather improved and ourspirits rose; and as we began to take the offensive more and moreour confidence increased in Ranjoor Singh until there might neverhave been any doubt of him, except that Gooja Singh was tooconscious of his own faults to dare let matters be. He was ever onthe watch for a chance to make himself safe at Ranjoor Singh'sexpense. He was a good enough soldier when so minded. All of usdaffadars were developing into very excellent troop commanders, andhe not least of us; but the more efficient he grew the moredangerous he was, for the very good reason that Ranjoor Singhscorned to take notice of his hate and only praised him forefficiency. Whereas he watched all the time for faults in RanjoorSingh to take advantage of them. 

So I took thought, and used discretion, and chose twelve trooperswhom I drafted into Gooja Singh's command by twos and threes, he notsuspecting. By ones and twos and threes I took them apart and testedthem, saying much the same to each. 

Said I, "Who mistrusts our sahib any longer?" And because I hadchosen them well they each made the same answer. "Nay, " said they, "we were fools. He was always truer than any of us. He surrenderedin that trench that we might live for some such work as this!"

"If he were to be slain, " said I, "what would now become of us?"

"He must not be slain!" said they. 

"But what if he IS slain?" I answered. "Who knows his plans for thefuture?"

"Ask him to tell his plans, " said they. "He trusts you more than anyof us. Ask and he will tell. "

"Nay, " said I, "I have asked and he will not tell. He knows, as wellas you or I, that not all the men of this regiment have alwaysbelieved in him. He knows that none dare kill him unless they knowhis plans first, for until they have his plans how can they dispensewith his leadership?"

"Who are these who wish to kill him?" said they. "Let there be courtmartial and a hanging!"

"Nay, " said I, "let there be a silence and forgetting, lest too manybe involved!"

They nodded, knowing well that not one man of us all would escapecondemnation if inquiry could be carried back far enough. 

"Let there be much watchfulness!" said I. 

"Who shall watch Ranjoor Singh?" said they. "He is here, there andeverywhere! He is gone before dawn, and perhaps we see him again atnoon, but probably not until night. And half the night he spends inthe saddle as often as not. Who shall watch him?"

"True!" said I. "But if we took thought, and decided whomight--perhaps--most desire to kill him for evil recollection's sake, thenwe might watch and prevent the deed. "

"Aye!" said they, and they understood. So I arranged with RanjoorSingh to have them transferred to Gooja Singh's troop, making thisexcuse and that and telling everything except the truth about it. IfI had told him the truth, Ranjoor Singh would have laughed and myprecaution would have been wasted, but having lied I was able toride on with easier mind--such sometimes being the case. 

We had little trouble in keeping on the horizon whenever we sightedTurks in force; and then probably the distance deceived them intothinking us Turks, too, for we rode now with no less than fiveTurkish officers as well as a German sergeant. And in the rear oflarge bodies of Turks there was generally a defenseless town orvillage whose Armenians had all been butchered, and whose otherinhabitants were mostly too gorged with plunder to show any fight. We helped ourselves to food, clothing, horses, saddlery, horse-feed, and anything else that Ranjoor Singh considered we might need, buthe threatened to hang the man who plundered anything of personalvalue to himself, and none of us wished to die by that means. 

We soon began to need medicines and a doctor badly, for we lost noless than eight-and-twenty men between the avenging of thoseArmenians in the desert and reaching the Kurdish mountains, and oncewe had more than forty wounded at one time. But finally we captureda Greek doctor, attached to the Turkish army, and he had along withhim two mule-loads of medicines. Ranjoor Singh promised him sevendeaths for every one of our wounded men who should die of neglect, and most of them began to recover very quickly. 

If we had tried merely to plunder; or had raided the same placetwice; or, if we had rested merely because we were weary; or, if wehad once done what might have been expected of us, I should not nowsit beneath this tree talking to you, sahib, because my bones wouldbe lying in Asiatic Turkey. But we rode zigzag-wise, very oftendoubling on our tracks, Ranjoor Singh often keeping half a day'smarch ahead of us gathering information. 

When we raided a town or village we used to tie our Turkish officershand and foot and cover them up in a cart, for we wished them to bemistaken for Kurds, not Turks. And in almost the first bazaar weplundered were strange hats such as Kurds wear, that gave us when wewore them in the dark the appearance, perhaps, of Kurds who hadstolen strange garments (for the Kurds wear quite distinctiveclothes, of which we did not succeed in plundering sufficient todisguise us all). 

In more than one town we had to fight for what we took, for therewere Turkish soldiers that we did not know about, for all RanjoorSingh's good scouting. Sometimes we beat them off with very littletrouble; sometimes we had about enough fighting to warm our heartsand terrify the inhabitants. But in one town we were caughtplundering the bazaar by several hundred Turkish infantry whoentered from the far side unexpectedly; and if we had not burned thebazaar I doubt that we should have won clear of that trap. But thesmoke and flame served us for a screen, and we got to the rear ofthe Turks and killed a number of them before galloping off into thedark. 

But who shall tell in a day what took weeks in the doing? I do notremember the tenth part of it! We rode, and we skirmished, and weplundered, growing daily more proud of Ranjoor Singh, and most of usforgetting we had ever doubted him. Once we rode for ten miles sideby side in the darkness with a Turkish column that had been sent tohunt for us! Perhaps they mistook our squeaky old carts for theircannon; that had camped for the night unknown to them! Next day wetold some Kurds where to find the cannon, and doubtless the Kurdsmade trouble. We let the column alone, for it was too big for us--abouttwo regiments, I think. They camped at midnight, and we rodeon. 

We gave our horses all the care we could, but that was none toomuch, and we had to procure new mounts very frequently. Often wepicked up a dozen at a time in the towns and villages, slaying thosewe left behind lest they be of use to the enemy. Once we wrought amiracle, being nearly at a standstill from hard marching, and almostsurrounded by regiments sent out to cut us off. We raided thehorse-lines of a Turkish regiment that had camped beside a stream, securing all the horses we needed and stampeding the remainder! Thuswe escaped through the gap that regiment had been supposed to close. We got away with their baked bread, too, enough to last us at leastthree days! That was not far from Diarbekr. 

By the time we reached the Tigris and crossed it near Diarbekr wewere happy men; for we were not in search of idleness; all most ofus asked was a chance to serve our friends, and making trouble forthe Turks was surely service! One way and another we made moretrouble than ten times our number could have made in Flanders. Everyone of us but Gooja Singh was happy. 

We crossed the Tigris in the dark, and some of us were nearlydrowned, owing to the horses being frightened. We had to abandon ourcarts, so we burned them; and by the light of that fire we saw greatmounds of Turkish supplies that they intended to float down theriver to Bagdad on strange rafts made of goatskins. The sentriesguarding the stores put up a little fight, and five more of us werewounded, but finally we burned the stores, and the flames were sobright and high that we had to gallop for two miles before we couldbe safe again in darkness. So we crossed at a rather bad place, andthere was something like panic for ten minutes, but we got oversafely in the end, wounded and all. We floated the wounded men andammunition and rations for men and horses across on some of thosestrange goatskin rafts that go round and round and any way butforward. We found them in the long grass by the river-bank. 

At a town on the far side we seized new carts, far better than ourold ones. And then, because we might have been expected to continueeastward, we turned to the south and followed the course of theTigris, straight into Kurdish country, where it did us no good toresemble either Turks or Kurds; for we could not hope to deceive theKurds into thinking we were of their tribe, and Turks and Kurds areopen enemies wherever the Turks are not strong enough to overawe. They were all Kurds in these parts, and no Turks at all, so that ourproblem became quite different. After two days' riding over what waslittle else than wilderness, Ranjoor Singh made new dispositions, and we put the Kurdish headgear in our knapsacks. 

In the first place, the wounded had been suffering severely from thelong forced marches and the jolting of the springless carts. Some ofthem had died, and the Greek doctor had grown very anxious for hisown skin. Ranjoor Singh summoned him and listened to greatexplanations and excuses, finally gravely permitting him to live, but adding solemn words of caution. Then he ordered the cartsabandoned, for there was now no road at all. The forty Turkishsoldiers (in their Syrian clothes) were made to carry the wounded instretchers we improvised, until some got well and some died; thosewho did not carry wounded were made to carry ammunition, and some ofour own men who had tried to disregard Ranjoor Singh's strict ordersregarding women of the country were made to help them. Thatarrangement lasted until we came to a village where the Kurds werewilling to exchange mules against the rifles we had taken from theKurds, one mule for one rifle, we refusing to part with anycartridges. 

After that the wounded had to ride on mules, some of them two to amule, holding each other on, and the cartridge boxes were packed onthe backs of other mules, except that men who tried to make freewith native women were invariably ordered to relieve a mule. Then wehad no further use for the forty Turks, so we turned them loose withenough food to enable them to reach Diarbekr if they wereeconomical. They went off none too eagerly in their Syrian clothes, and I have often wondered whether they ever reached theirdestination, for the Kurds of those parts are a fierce people, andit is doubtful which they would rather ill-treat and kill, a Turk ora Syrian. The Turks have taught them to despise Armenians andSyrians, but they despise Turks naturally. (All this I learned fromAbraham, who often marched beside me. )

"Those Turks we have released will go back and set their people onour trail, " said Gooja Singh, overlooking no chance to throwdiscredit. 

"If they ever get safely back, that is what I hope they will do!"Ranjoor Singh answered. "We will disturb hornets and pray that Turksget stung!"

He would give no explanation, but it was not long before we allunderstood. Little by little, he was admitting us to confidence inthose days, never telling at a time more than enough to arouseinterest and hope. 

Rather than have him look like a Turk any longer, we had dressed upAbraham in the uniform of one of our dead troopers; and when at lasta Kurdish chief rode up with a hundred men at his back and demandedto know our business, Ranjoor Singh called Abraham to interpret. Wecould easily have beaten a mere hundred Kurds, but to have won askirmish just then would have helped us almost as little as to loseone. What we wanted was free leave to ride forward. 

"Where are ye, and whither are ye bound? What seek ye?" the Kurddemanded, but Ranjoor Singh proved equal to the occasion. 

"We be troops from India, " said he. "We have been fighting in Europeon the side of France and England, and the Germans and Turks havebeen so badly beaten that you see for yourself what is happening. Behold us! We are an advance party. These Turkish officers you seeare prisoners we have taken on our way. Behold, we have also aGerman prisoner! You will find all the Turks between here and Syriain a state of panic, and if plunder is what you desire you wouldbetter make haste and get what you can before the great armies comeeating the land like locusts! Plunder the Turks and prove yourselvesthe friends of French and English!"

Sahib, those Kurds would rather loot than go to heaven, and, likeall wild people, they are very credulous. There are Kurds and Kurdsand Kurds, nations within a nation, speaking many dialects of onetongue. Some of them are half-tame and live on the plains; those theTurks are able to draft into their armies to some extent. Some ofthe plainsmen, like those I speak of now, are altogether wild andwill not serve the Turks on any terms. And most of the hillmenprefer to shoot a Turk on sight. I would rather fight a pig withbare hands than try to stand between a Kurd and Turkish plunder, andit only needed just those few words of Ranjoor Singh's to set thatpart of the world alight!

We rode for very many days after that, following the course of theTigris unmolested. The tale Ranjoor Singh told had gone ahead of us. The village Kurds waited to have one look, saw our Turkish prisonersand our Sikh turbans, judged for themselves, and were off! I believewe cost the Turkish garrisons in those parts some grim fighting; andif any Turks were on our trail I dare wager they met a swarm or twoof hornets more than they bargained for!

Instead of having to fight our way through that country, we werewell received. Wherever we found Kurds, either in tents or invillages, the unveiled women would give us DU, as they call theircurds and whey, and barley for our horses, and now and then a littlebread. When other persuasion failed, we could buy almost anythingthey had with a handful or two of cartridges. They were a savagepeople, but not altogether unpleasing. 

Once, where the Tigris curved and our road brought us near thebanks, by a high cliff past which the river swept at very greatspeed, we took part in a sport that cost us some cartridges, but norisk, and gave us great amusement. The Kurds of those parts, havingheard in advance of our tale of victory, had decided, to take thenearest loot to hand; so they had made an ambuscade down near theriver level, and when we came on the scene we lent a hand fromhigher up. 

Rushing down the river at enormous speed (for the stream was narrowthere) forced between rocks with a roar and much white foam thegoatskin rafts kept coming on their way to Mosul and Bagdad, someloaded with soldiers, some with officers, and all with goods onwhich the passengers must sit to keep their legs dry. The rafts wereeach managed by two men, who worked long oars to keep them inmid-current, they turning slowly round and round. 

The mode of procedure was to volley at them, shooting, if possible, the men with oars, but not despising a burst goatskin bag. In casethe men with oars were shot, the others would try to take theirplace, and, being unskilful, would very swiftly run the raft againsta rock, when it would break up and drown its passengers, the goodsdrifting ashore at the bend in the river in due time. 

On the other hand, when a few goatskin bags were pierced the raftwould begin to topple over and the men with oars would themselvesdirect the raft toward the shore, preferring to take their chanceamong Kurds than with the rocks that stuck up like fangs out of theraging water. No, sahib, I could not see what happened to them afterthey reached shore. That is a savage country. 

One of our first volleys struck a raft so evenly and all togetherthat it blew up as if it had been torpedoed! We tried again andagain to repeat that performance, until Ranjoor Singh checked us forwasting ammunition. It was very good sport. There were rafts andrafts and rafts--KYAKS, I think they call them--and the amount ofplunder those Kurds collected on the beach must have beenastonishing. 

We gave the city of Mosul a very wide berth, for that is the largestcity of those parts, with a very large Turkish garrison. Twentymiles to the north of it we captured a good convoy of mules, together with their drivers, headed toward Mosul, and the mules'loads turned out to consist of good things to eat, including butterin large quantities. We came on them in the gathering dusk, whentheir escort of fifty Turkish infantry had piled arms, we beingtotally unexpected. So we captured the fifty rifles as well as themules; and, although the mule-drivers gave us the slip next day, andno doubt gave information about us in Mosul, that did not worry usmuch. We cut two telegraph wires leading toward Mosul that samenight; we cut out two miles of wire in sections, riding away withit, and burned the poles. 

After that, whenever we could catch a small party of men, Turksexcepted (for that would have been to give the Turks moreinformation than we could expect to get from them), Ranjoor Singhwould ask questions about Wassmuss. Most of them would glance towardthe mountains at mention of his name, but few had much to tell abouthim. However, bit by bit, our knowledge of his doings and hiswhereabouts kept growing, and we rode forward, ever toward themountains now, wasting no time and plundering no more thanexpedient. 

We saw no more living Armenians on all that long journey. The Turksand Kurds had exterminated them! We rode by burned villages, andthrough villages that once had been half-Armenian. The non-Armenianhouses would all be standing, like to burst apart with plunder, butevery single one that had sheltered an Armenian family would lie inruins. God knows why! On all our way we found no man who could tellus what those people had done to deserve such hatred. We asked, butnone could tell us. 

One town, through which we rode at full gallop, had Armenian bodiesstill lying in the streets, some of them half-burned, and there wereKurds and Turks busy plundering the houses. Some of them came out tofire at us, but failed to do us any harm, and, the wind being theright way, we set a light to a dozen houses at the eastward end. Twoor three miles away we stopped to watch the whole town go up inflames, and laughed long at the Turks' efforts to save their loot. 

As we drew near enough to the mountains to see snow and to make outthe lie of the different ranges, we ceased to have any fear ofpursuit. There was plenty of evidence of Turkish armies not very faraway; in fact, at Mosul there was gathering a very great armyindeed; but they were all so busy killing and torturing and huntingdown Armenians that they seemed to have no time for duty on thatpart of the frontier. Perhaps that was why the Germans had sentWassmuss, in order that the Turks might have more leisure to destroytheir enemies at home! Who knows? There are many things about thisgreat war to which none know the answer, and I think the fate of theArmenians is one of them. 

But who thought any more of Armenians when the outer spurs of thefoot-hills began to close around us? Not we, at any rate. We hadproblems enough of our own. What lay behind us was behind, and thefuture was likely to afford us plenty to think about! Too many of ushad fought among the slopes of the Himalayas now to know howdifficult it would be for Turks to follow us; but thosemountaineers, who are nearly as fierce as our mountaineers ofnorthern India, and who have ever been too many for the Turks, werelikely to prove more dangerous than anything we had met yet. 

We had enough food packed on our captured mules to last us forperhaps another eight days when we at last rode into a grim defilethat seemed to lead between the very gate-posts of the East--twogreat mountains, one on either hand, barren, and ragged, and hard. We were being led at that time by a Kurdish prisoner, who had lainby the wayside with the bellyache. Our Greek doctor had physickedhim, and he was now compelled to lead us under Ranjoor Singh'sdirections, with his hands made fast behind him, he riding on a mulewith one of our men on either hand. By that time Ranjoor Singh hadpicked up enough information at different times, and had addedenough of it together to know whither we must march, and the Kurdhad nothing to do but obey orders. 

We had scarcely ridden three hundred yards into the defile of whichI speak, remarking the signs of another small body of mounted menwho had preceded us, when fifty shots rang out from overhead and wetook open order as if a shell had burst among us. Nobody was hit, however, and I think nobody was intended to be hit. I saw thatRanjoor Singh looked unalarmed. He beckoned for Abraham, who lookedterrified, and I took Abraham by the shoulder and brought himforward. There came a wild yell from overhead, and Ranjoor Singhmade Abraham answer it with something about Wassmuss. In theshouting that followed I caught the word Wassmuss many times. 

Presently a Kurdish chief came galloping down, for all the world asone of our Indian mountaineers would ride, leaping his horse fromrock to rock as if he and the beast were one. I rode to RanjoorSingh's side, to protect him if need be, so I heard what followed, Abraham translating. 

"Whence are ye?" said the Kurd. "And whither? And what will ye?"They are inquisitive people, and they always seem to wish to knowthose three things first. 

"I have told you already, I ride from Farangistan, [Footnote:Europe] and I seek Wassmuss. These are my men, " said Ranjoor Singh. 

"No more may reach Wassmuss unless they have the money with them!"said the Kurd, very truculently. "Two days ago we let by the lastparty of men who carried only talk. Now we want only money!"

"Who was ever helped by impatience?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Nay, " said the Kurd, "we are a patient folk! We have waitedeighteen days for sight of this gold for Wassmuss. It should havebeen here fifteen days ago, so Wassmuss said, but we are willing towait eighteen more. Until it comes, none else shall pass!"

I was watching Ranjoor Singh very closely indeed, and I saw that hesaw daylight, as it were, through darkness. 

"Yet no gold shall come, " he answered, "until you and I shall havetalked together, and shall have reached an agreement. "

"Agreement?" said the Kurd. "Ye have my word! Ride back and bid thembring their gold in safety and without fear!"

"Without fear?" said Ranjoor Singh. "Then who are ye?"

"We, " said the Kurd, "are the escort, to bring the gold in safetythrough the mountain passes. "

"So that he may divide it among others?" asked Ranjoor Singh, and Isaw the Kurd wince. "Gold is gold!" he went on. "Who art thou to letby an opportunity?"

"Speak plain words, " said the Kurd. 

"Here?" said Ranjoor Singh. "Here in this defile, where men mightcome on us from the rear at any minute?"

"That they can not do, " the Kurd answered, "for my men watch fromoverhead. "

"Nevertheless, " said Ranjoor Singh, "I will speak no plain wordshere. "

The Kurd looked long at him--at least a whole minute. Then he wipedhis nose on the long sleeve of his tunic and turned about. "Come inpeace!" he said, spurring his horse. 

Ranjoor Singh followed him, and we followed Ranjoor Singh, withoutone word spoken or order given. The Kurd led straight up the defilefor a little way, then sharp to the right and uphill along a paththat wound among great boulders, until at last we halted, pack-mulesand all, in a bare arena formed by a high cliff at the rear and onthree sides by gigantic rocks that fringed it, making a naturalfort. 

The Kurd's men were mostly looking out from between the rocks, butsome of them were sprawling in the shadow of a great boulder in themidst, and some were attending to the horses that stood tethered ina long line under the cliff at the rear. The chief drove away thosewho lay in the shadow of the boulder in the midst, and bade RanjoorSingh and me and Abraham be seated. Ranjoor Singh called up theother daffadars, and we all sat facing the Kurd, with Abraham alittle to one side between him and us, to act interpreter. That wasthe first time Ranjoor Singh had taken so many at once into hisconfidence and I took it for a good sign, although unable to ignorea twinge of jealousy. 

"Now?" said the Kurd. "Speak plain words!"

"You have not yet offered us food, " said Ranjoor Singh. 

The Kurd stared hard at him, eye to eye. "I have good reason, " heanswered. "By our law, he who eats our bread can not be treated asan enemy. If I feed you, how can I let my men attack you afterward?"

"You could not, " said Ranjoor Singh. "We, too, have a law, that hewith whom we have eaten salt is not enemy but friend. Let us eatbread and salt together, then, for I have a plan. "

"A plan?" said the Kurd. "What manner of a plan? I await gold. Whatare words?"

"A good plan, " said Ranjoor Singh. 

"And on the strength of an empty boast am I to eat bread and saltwith you?" the Kurd asked. 

"If you wish to hear the plan, " said Ranjoor Singh. "To my enemy Itell nothing; however, let my friend but ask!"

The Kurd thought a long time, but we facing him added no word toencourage or confuse him. I saw that his curiosity increased themore the longer we were silent; yet I doubt whether his was greaterthan my own! Can the sahib guess what Ranjoor Singh's plan was? Nay, that Kurd was no great fool. He was in the dark. He saw swiftlyenough when explanations came. 

"I have three hundred mounted men!" the Kurd said at last. 

"And I near as many!" answered Ranjoor Singh. "I crave no favors! Icome with an offer, as one leader to another!"

The Kurd frowned and hesitated, but sent at last for bread and salt, for all our party, except that he ordered his men to give none toour prisoners and none to the Syrians, whom he mistook for Turkishsoldiers. If Ranjoor Singh had told him they were Syrians he wouldhave refused the more, for Kurds regard Syrians as wolves regardsheep. 

"Let the prisoners be, " said Ranjoor Singh, "but feed those others!They must help put through the plan!"

So the Kurd ordered our Syrians, whom he thought Turks, fed too, andwe dipped the flat bread (something like our Indian chapatties) intosalt and ate, facing one another. 

"Now speak, and we listen, " said the Kurd when we had finished. Someof his men had come back, clustering around him, and we were quite aparty, filling all the shadow of the great rock. 

"How much of that gold was to have been yours?" asked Ranjoor Singh, and the Kurd's eyes blazed. "Wassmuss promised me so-and-so much, "he answered, "if I with three hundred men wait here for the convoyand escort it to where he waits. "

"But why do ye serve Wassmuss?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Because he buys friendship, as other men buy ghee, or a horse, orammunition, " said the Kurd. "He spends gold like water, saying it isGerman gold, and in return for it we must harry the British andRussians. "

"Yet you and I are friends by bread and salt, " said Ranjoor Singh, "and I offer you all this gold, whereas he offers only part of it!Nay, I and my men need none of it--I offer it all!"

"At what price?" asked the Kurd, suspiciously. Doubtless men whoneed no gold were as rare among these mountains as in other places!

"I shall name a price, " said Ranjoor Singh. "A low price. We shallboth be content with our bargain, and possibly Wassmuss, too, mayfeel satisfied for a while. "

"Nay, you must be a wizard!" said the Kurd. "Speak on!"

"Tell me first, " said Ranjoor Singh, "about the party who wentthrough this defile two days ahead of us. "

"What do you know of them?" asked the Kurd. 

"This, " said Ranjoor Singh. "We have followed them from Mosul, learning here a little and there a little. What is it that they havewith them? Who are they? Why were they let pass?"

"They were let pass because Wassmuss gave the order, " the Kurdanswered. "They are Germans--six German officers, six Germanservants--and Kurds--twenty-four Kurds of the plains acting portersand camp-servants--many mules--two mules bearing a box slung onpoles between them. "

"What was in the box?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Nay, I know not, " said the Kurd. 

"Nevertheless, " said Ranjoor Singh, "my brother is a man with eyesand ears. What did my brother hear?"

"They said their machine can send and receive a message from placesas far apart as Khabul and Stamboul. Doubtless they lied, " the Kurdanswered. 

"Doubtless!" said Ranjoor Singh. By his slow even breathing andapparent indifference, I knew he was on a hot scent, so I tried toappear indifferent myself, although my ears burned. The Kurdsclustering around their leader listened with ears and eyes agape. They made no secret of their interest. 

"They said they are on their way to Khabul, " the Kurd continued, "there to receive messages from Europe and acquaint the amir and hisruling chiefs of the true condition of affairs. "

"How shall they reach Afghanistan?" asked Ranjoor Singh. "Does aroad through Persia lie open to them?"

"Nay, " said the Kurd. "Persia is like a nest of hornets. But theyare to receive an escort of us Kurds to take them through Persia. Wemountain Kurds are not afraid of Persians. "

"Which Kurds are to provide the escort?" Ranjoor Singh asked him, and the Kurd shook his head. 

"Nay, " he said, "that none can tell. It is not yet agreed. There issmall competition for the task. There are better pickings here onthe border, raiding now and then, and pocketing the gold of thisWassmuss between-whiles! Who wants the task of escorting a machinein a box to Khabul?"

"Nevertheless, " said Ranjoor Singh, "I know of a leader and his menwho will undertake the task. "

"Who, then?" said the Kurd. 

"I and my men!" said Ranjoor Singh; and I held my breath until Ithought my lungs would burst. "Persia!" thought I. "Afghanistan!"thought I. "And what beyond?"

"Ye are not Kurds, " the chief answered, after he had considered awhile. "Wassmuss said the escort must consist of three hundred Kurdsor he will not pay. "

"The payment shall be arranged between me and thee!" said RanjoorSingh. "You shall have all the gold of this next convoy, if you willride back to Wassmuss and agree that you and your men shall be theescort to Afghanistan. "

"Who shall guard this pass if I ride back?" the Kurd asked. 

"I!" said Ranjoor Singh. "I and my men will wait here for the gold. Leave me a few of your men to be guides and to keep peace between usand other Kurds among these mountains. Ride and tell Wassmuss thatthe gold will not come for another thirty days. "

"He will not believe, " said the Kurd. 

"I will give you a letter, " said Ranjoor Singh. 

"He will not believe the letter, " said the Kurd. 

"What is that to thee, whether he believes it or not?" said RanjoorSingh. "At least he will believe that Turks brought you the letter, and that you took it to him in good faith. Will he charge you withhaving written it?"

"Nay, " said the Kurd, nodding, "I can not write, and he knows it. "

"Do that, then, " said Ranjoor Singh. "Ride and agree to be escortfor these Germans and their machine to Afghanistan. Leave me herewith ten or a dozen of your men, who will guide me after I have thegold to where you shall be camping with your Germans somewhere justbeyond the Persian border. I will arrange to overtake you afterdusk--perhaps at midnight. There I will give you the gold, and youshall ride away. I and my men will ride on as escort to theGermans. "

"What if they object?" said the Kurd. 

"Who? The men with the box, or Wassmuss?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Nay, " said the Kurd, "Wassmuss will be very glad to get a willingescort. He is in difficulty over that. There will be no objectionfrom him. But what if the men with the box object to the change ofescorts?"

"We be over two hundred, and they thirty!" answered Ranjoor Singh, and the Kurd nodded. 

"After all, " he said, "that is thy affair. But how am I to know thatyou and your men will not ride off with the gold? Nay, I must havethe gold first!"

Ranjoor Singh shook his head. 

"Then I and my men will stay here and help seize the gold, " the Kurdsaid meaningly. 

"Nay!" said Ranjoor Singh. "For then you would fight me for it!"

"Thou and I have eaten bread and salt together!" said the Kurd. 

"True, " said Ranjoor Singh, "therefore trust me, for I am a Sikhfrom India. "

"I know nothing of Sikhs, or of India, " said the Kurd. "Gold I knowin the dark, by its jingle and weight, but who knows the heart of aman?"

"Then listen, " said Ranjoor Singh. "If you and your men seize thegold, you must bear the blame. When the Turks come later on forvengeance, you will hang. But if I stay and take the gold, who shallknow who I am? You will be able to prove with the aid of Wassmussthat neither you nor your men were anywhere near when, the attacktook place. "

"Then you will make an ambush?" said the Kurd. 

"I will set a trap, " said Ranjoor Singh. "Moreover, consider this:You think I may take the gold and keep it. How could I? Having takenit from the Turks, should I ride back toward Turkey? Whither else, then? Shall I escape through Persia, with you and your Kurds toprevent? Nay, we must make a fair bargain as friend with friend--andkeep it!"

"If I do as you say, " said the Kurd, "if I take this letter toWassmuss, and agree with him to escort those Germans across Persia, what, then, if you fail to get the gold? What if the Turks get thebetter of you?"

"Dead men can not keep bargains!" answered Ranjoor Singh. "I shallsucceed or die. But consider again: I have led these men of minehither from Stamboul, deceiving and routing and outdistancingTurkish regiments all the way. Shall I fail now, having come sofar?"

"Insha' Allah!" said the Kurd, meaning, "If God wills. "

"Since when did God take sides against the brave?" Ranjoor Singhasked him, and the Kurd said nothing; but I feared greatly becausethey seemed on the verge of a religious argument, and those Kurdsare fanatics. If anything but gold had been in the balance againsthim, I believe that Kurd would have defied us, for, although he didnot know what Sikhs might be, he knew us for no Musselmen. I saw hiseyes look inward, meditating treachery, not only to Wassmuss, but tous, too. But Ranjoor Singh detected that quicker than I did. 

"Let us neglect no points, " he said, and the Kurd brought his mindback with an effort from considering plans against us. "It would bepossible for me to get that gold, and for other Kurds--not you oryour men, of course, but other Kurds--to waylay me in the mountains. Therefore let part of the agreement be that you leave with me tenhostages, of whom two shall be your blood relations. "

The Kurd winced. He was a little keen man, with, a thin face andprominent nose; not ill-looking, but extremely acquisitive, I shouldsay. 

"Wassmuss holds my brother hostage!" he answered grimly, as if hehad just then thought of it. 

"I have a German prisoner here, " said Ranjoor Singh, with thenearest approach to a smile that he had permitted himself yet, "andWassmuss will be very glad to exchange him against your brother whenthe time comes. "

"Ah!" said the Kurd, and--

"Ah!" said Ranjoor Singh. He saw now which way the wind blew, and, like all born cavalry leaders, he pressed his advantage. 

"Do the Turks hold any of your men prisoner?" he asked. 

"Aye!" said the Kurd. "They hold an uncle of mine, and myhalf-brother, and seven of my best men. They keep them in jail infetters. "

"I have five Turkish prisoners, all officers, one a bimbashi, whom Iwill give you when I hand over the gold. The Turks will gladly tradeyour men against their officers, " Ranjoor Singh assured him. "Youshall have them and the German to make your trade with. "

It was plain the Kurd was more than half-convinced. His men whoswarmed around him were urging him in whispers. Doubtless they knewhe would keep most, if not all, of the gold for himself, but thesafety of their friends made more direct appeal and I don't think hewould have dared neglect that opportunity for fear of losing theirallegiance. Nevertheless, he bargained to the end. 

"Give me, then, ten hostages against my ten, and we are agreed!" heurged. 

"Nay, nay!" said Ranjoor Singh. "It is my task to fight for thatgold. Shall I weaken my force by ten men? Nay, we are already fewenough! I will give you one--to be exchanged against your ten at thetime of giving up the gold in Persia. "

"Ten!" said the Kurd. "Ten against ten!"

"One!" said Ranjoor Singh, and I thought they would quarrel and thewhole plan would come to nothing. But the Kurd gave in. 

"Then one officer!" said the Kurd, and I trembled, for I saw thatRanjoor Singh intended to agree to that, and I feared he might pickme. But no. If I had thought a minute I would not have feared, yetwho thinks at such times? The men who think first of their chargeand last of their own skin are such as Ranjoor Singh; a year afterwar begins they are still leading. The rest of us must either becontent to be led, or else are superseded. I burst into a sweat allover, for all that a cold wind swept among the rocks. Yet I mighthave known I was not to be spared. 

After two seconds, that seemed two hours, he said to the Kurd, "Verywell. We are agreed. I will give you one of my officers against tenof your men. I will give you Gooja Singh!" said he. 

Sahib, I could have rolled among the rocks and laughed. The look ofrage mingled with amazement on Gooja Singh's fat face was paymentenough for all the insults I had received from him. I could notconceal all my merriment. Doubtless my eyes betrayed me. I doubt notthey blazed. Gooja Singh was sitting on the other side of RanjoorSingh, partly facing me, so that he missed nothing of what passedover my face--as I scarcely intended that he should. And in a momentmy mirth was checked by sight of his awful wrath. His face hadturned many shades darker. 

"I am to be hostage?" he said in a voice like grinding stone. 

"Aye, " said Ranjoor Singh. "Be a proud one! They have had to giveten men to weigh against you in the scale!"

"And I am to go away with them all by myself into the mountains?"

"Aye, " said Ranjoor Singh. "Why not? We hold ten of theirs againstyour safe return. "

"Good! Then I will go!" he answered, and I knew by the black look onhis face and by the dull rage in his voice that he would harm us ifhe could. But there was no time just then to try to dissuade RanjoorSingh from his purpose, even had I dared. There began to be greatargument about the ten hostages the Kurd should give, Ranjoor Singhexamining each one with the aid of Abraham, rejecting one man afteranother as not sufficiently important, and it was two hours beforeten Kurds that satisfied him stood unarmed in our midst. Then hegave up Gooja Singh in exchange for them; and Gooja Singh walkedaway among the Kurds without so much as a backward look, or a wordof good-by, or a salute. 

"He should be punished for not saluting you, " said I, going toRanjoor Singh's side. "It is a bad example to the troopers. "

"KUCH--KUCH--, " said he. "No trouble. Black hearts beget blackdeeds. White hearts, good deeds. Maybe we all misjudged him. Let himprove whether he is true at heart or not. "

Observe, sahib, how he identified himself with us, although he knewwell that all except I until recently had denied him title to anyother name than traitor. "Maybe we all misjudged, " said he, as muchas to say, "What my men have done, I did. " So you may tell thedifference between a great man and a mean one. 

"Better have hanged him long ago!" said I. "He will be the ruin ofus yet!" But he laughed. 

"Sahib, " I said. "Suppose he should get to see this Wassmuss?"

"I have thought of that, " he answered. "Why should the Kurds let himgo near Wassmuss? Unless they return him safely to us we can executetheir hostages; they will run no risk of Wassmuss playing tricks withGooja Singh. Besides, from what I can learn and guess from what theKurds say, this Wassmuss is to all intents and purposes a prisoner. Another tribe of Kurds, pretending, to protect him, keep him veryclosely guarded. The best he can do is to play off one tribe againstanother. Our friend said Wassmuss holds his brother for hostage, butI think the fact is the other tribe holds him and Wassmuss gets theblame. I suspect they held our friend's brother as security for thegold he is to meet and escort back. There is much politics workingin these mountains. "

"Much politics and little hope for us!" said I, and at that heturned on me as he never had done yet. No, sahib, I never saw himturn on any man, nor speak as savagely as he did to me then. It wasas if the floodgates of his weariness were down at last and I got aglimpse of what he suffered--he who dared trust no one all thesemonths and miles. 

"Did I not say months ago, " he mocked, "that if I told you half myplan you would quail? And that if I told the whole, you would pickit to pieces like hens round a scrap of meat? Man without thought!Can I not see the dangers? Have I no eyes--no ears? Do I need a frogto croak to me of risks whichever way I turn? Do I need men to hangback, or men to lend me courage?"

"Who hangs back?" said I. "Nay, forward! I will die beside you, sahib!"

"I seek life for you all, not death, " he answered, but he spoke sosadly that I think in that minute his hope and faith were at lowestebb. 

"Nevertheless, " I answered, "if need be, I will die beside you. Iwill not hang back. Order, and I obey!" But he looked at me as if hedoubted. 

"Boasting, " he said, "is the noise fools make to conceal fromthemselves their failings!"

What could I answer to that? I sat down and considered the rebuff, while he went and made great preparation for an execution and aTurkish funeral. So that there was little extra argument required toinduce one of our Turkish officer prisoners--the bimbashi himself, in fact--to write the letter to Wassmuss that Ranjoor Singhrequired. And that he gave to the Kurdish chief, and the Kurd rodeaway with his men, not looking once back at the hostages he had leftwith us, but making a great show of guarding Gooja Singh, who rodeunarmed in the center of a group of horsemen. That instant I beganto feel sorry for Gooja Singh, and later, when we advanced throughthose blood-curdling mountains I was sorrier yet to think of himborne away alone amid savages whose tongue he could not speak. Themen all felt sorry for him too, but Ranjoor Singh gave them littletime for talk about it, setting them at once to various tasks, notleast of which was cleaning rifles for inspection. 

I took Abraham to interpret for me and went to talk with our tenhostages, who were herded together apart from the other ten armedKurds. They seemed to regard themselves as in worse plight thanprisoners and awaited with resignation whatever might be theirkismet. So I asked them were they afraid lest Gooja Singh might meetwith violence, and they replied they were afraid of nothing. Theyadded, however, that no man could say in those mountains what thisday or the next might bring forth. 

Then I asked them about Wassmuss, and they rather confirmed RanjoorSingh's guess about his being practically a prisoner. They said hewas ever on the move, surrounded and very closely watched by theparticular tribe of Kurds that had possession of him for the moment. 

"First it is one tribe, then another, " they told me. "If you keepyour bargain with our chief and he gets this gold, we shall haveWassmuss, too, within a week, for we shall buy the allegiance of oneor two more tribes to join with us and oust those Kurds who hold himnow. Hitherto the bulk of his gold has been going into Persia tobribe the Bakhtiari Khans and such like, but that day is gone by. Now we Kurds will grow rich. But as for us"--they shrugged theirshoulders like this, sahib, meaning to say that perhaps their dayhad gone by also. I left them with the impression they are veryfatalistic folk. 

There was no means of knowing how long we might have to wait there, so Ranjoor Singh gave orders for the best shelter possible to beprepared, and what with the cave at the rear, and plunderedblankets, and one thing and another we contrived a camp that wasalmost comfortable. What troubled us most was shortage of fire-wood, and we had to send out foraging parties in every direction at nosmall risk. The Kurds, like our mountain men of northern India, leave such matters to their women-folk, and there was more than onevoice raised in anger at Ranjoor Singh because he had not allowed usto capture women as well as food and horses. Our Turkish prisonerslaughed at us for not having stolen women, and Tugendheim vowed hehad never seen such fools. 

But as it turned out, we had not long to wait. That very evening, asI watched from between two great boulders, I beheld a Turkish convoyof about six hundred infantry, led by a bimbashi on a gray horse, with a string of pack-mules trailing out behind them, and fiveloaded donkeys led by soldiers in the midst. They were headingtoward the hills, and I sent a man running to bring Ranjoor Singh towatch them. 

It soon became evident that they meant to camp on the plains forthat night. They had tents with them, and they pitched a campthree-quarters of a mile, or perhaps a mile away from the mouth of ourdefile, at a place where a little stream ran between rocks. It wasclear they suspected no treachery, or they would never have chosenthat place, they being but six hundred and the hills full of Kurdsso close at hand. Nevertheless, they were very careful to setsentries on all the rocks all about, and they gave us no ground forthinking we might take them by surprise. Seeing they outnumbered us, and we had to spare a guard for our prisoners and hostages, and thatfifty of our force were Syrians and therefore not much use, I feltdoubtful. I thought Ranjoor Singh felt doubtful, too, until I sawhim glance repeatedly behind and study the sky. Then I began to hopeas furiously as he. 

The Turks down on the plain were studying the sky, too. We could seethem fix bayonets and make little trenches about the tents. Anotherparty of them gathered stones with which to re-enforce the tentpegs, and in every other way possible they made ready against one ofthose swift, sudden storms that so often burst down the sides ofmountains. Most of us had experienced such storms a dozen times ormore in the foot-hills of our Himalayas, and all of us knew thesigns. As evening fell the sky to our rear grew blacker than nightitself and a chill swept down the defile like the finger of death. 

"Repack the camp, " commanded Ranjoor Singh. "Stow everything in thecave. "

There was grumbling, for we had all looked forward to a warm night'srest. 

"To-night your hearts must warm you!" he said, striding to and froto make sure his orders were obeyed. It was dark by the time we hadfinished, Then he made us fall in, in our ragged overcoats--aye, ragged, for those German overcoats had served as coats and tents andwhat-not, and were not made to stand the wear of British ones in anycase--unmounted he made us fall in, at which there was grumblingagain. 

"Ye shall prove to-night, " he said, "whether ye can endure whatmules and horses never could! Warmth ye shall have, if your heartsare true, but the man who can keep dry shall be branded for awizard! Imagine yourselves back in Flanders!"

Most of us shuddered. I know I did. The wind had begun whimpering, and every now and then would whistle and rise into a scream. A fewdrops of heavy rain fell. Then would come a lull, while we couldfeel the air grow colder. Our Flanders experience was likely tostand us in good stead. 

Tugendheim and the Syrians were left in charge of our belongings. There was nothing else to do with them because the Syrians were inmore deathly fear of the storm than they ever had been of Turks. Nevertheless, we did not find them despicable. Unmilitary peoplethough they were, they had inarched and endured and labored likegood men, but certain things they seemed to accept as being morethan men could overcome, and this sort of storm apparently was oneof them. We tied the mules and horses very carefully, because we didnot believe the Syrians would stand by when the storm began, and wewere right. Tugendheim begged hard to be allowed to come with us, but Ranjoor Singh would not let him. I don't know why, but I thinkhe suspected Tugendheim of knowing something about the Germanofficers who were ahead of us, in which case Tugendheim was likelyto risk anything rather than continue going forward; and, havingpromised him to the Kurdish chief, it would not have suited RanjoorSingh to let him escape into Turkey again. 

The ten Kurds who had been left with us as guides and to help uskeep peace among the mountains all volunteered to lend a hand in thefight, and Ranjoor Singh accepted gladly. The hostages, on the otherhand, were a difficult problem; for they detested being hostages. They would have made fine allies for Tugendheim, supposing he hadmeditated any action in our rear. They could have guided him amongthe mountains with all our horses and mules and supplies. Andsuppose he had made up his mind to start through the storm to findWassmuss with their aid, what could have prevented him? He mightbetray us to Wassmuss as the price of his own forgiveness. So wetook the hostages with us, and when we found a place between somerocks where they could have shelter we drove them in there, settingfour troopers to guard them. Thus Tugendheim was kept in ignoranceof their whereabouts, and with no guides to help him play us false. As for the Greek doctor, we took him with us, too, for we werelikely to need his services that night, and in truth we did. 

We started the instant the storm began--twenty minutes or morebefore it settled down to rage in earnest. That enabled us to marchabout two-thirds of the way toward the Turkish camp and to deployinto proper formation before the hail came and made it impossible tohear even a shout. Hitherto the rain had screened us splendidly, although it drenched us to the skin, and the noise of rain and windprevented the noise we made from giving the alarm; but when the hailbegan I could not hear my own foot-fall. Ranjoor Singh roared outthe order to double forward, but could make none hear, so he seizeda rifle from the nearest man and fired it off. Perhaps a dozen menheard that and began to double. The remainder saw, and followedsuit. 

The hail was in our backs. No man ever lived who could have chargedforward into it, and not one of the Turkish sentries made pretenseat anything but running for his life. Long before we reached theirposts they were gone, and a flash of lightning showed the tentsblown tighter than drums in the gaining wind and white with thehailstones. When we reached the tents there was hail already half afoot deep underfoot where the wind had blown it into drifts, and thenext flash of lightning showed one tent--the bimbashi's own--splitopen and blown fluttering into strips. The bimbashi rushed out witha blanket round his head and shoulders and tried to kick men out ofanother tent to make room for him, and failing to do that hescrambled in on top of them. Opening the tent let the wind in, andthat tent, too, split and fluttered and blew away. And so at lastthey saw us coming. 

They saw us when we were so close that there was no time to do muchelse than run away or surrender. Quite a lot of them ran away Iimagine, for they disappeared. The bimbashi tried to pistol RanjoorSingh, and died for his trouble on a trooper's bayonet. Some of theTurks tried to fight, and they were killed. Those who surrenderedwere disarmed and driven away into the storm, and the last we saw ofthem was when a flash of lightning showed them hurryinghelter-skelter through the hail with hands behind their defenseless headstrying to ward off hailstones. They looked very ridiculous, and Iremember I laughed. 

I? My share of it? A Turkish soldier tried to drive a bayonetthrough me. I think he was the last one left in camp (the wholebusiness can only have lasted three or four minutes, once we wereamong them). I shot him with the repeating pistol that had once beenTugendheim's--this one, see, sahib--and believing the camp was nowours and the fighting over, I lay down and dragged his body over meto save me from hailstones, that had made me ache already in everyinch of my body. I rolled under and pulled the body over in onemovement; and seeing the body and thinking a Turk was crawling up toattack him, one of our troopers thrust his bayonet clean through it. It was a goodly thrust, delivered by a man who prided himself onbeing workmanlike. If the Turk had not been a fat one I should notbe here. Luckily, I had chosen one whose weight made me grunt, andbecause of his thickness the bayonet only pierced an inch or two ofmy thigh. 

I yelled and kicked the body off me. The trooper made as if to usethe steel again, thinking we were two Turks, and my pointing apistol at him only served to confirm the belief. But next minute thelightning showed the true facts, and he came and sat beside me withhis back to the hail, grinning like an ape. 

"That was a good thrust of mine!" he bellowed in my ear. "But for methat Turk would have had your life!"

When I had cursed his mother's ancestors for a dozen generations insome detail the truth dawned on him at last. I took his weapon awayfrom him while he bound a strip of cloth about my thigh, for I knewthe thought had come into his thick skull to finish me off and sosave explanation afterward. I would gladly have let him go withnothing further said, for I knew the man's first intention had beenhonest enough, but did not dare do that because he would certainlysuppose me to be meditating vengeance. So I flew into a great ragewith him, and drove him in front of me until we found a deadmule--whether killed by hail or bullet I don't know--and he and I laybetween the mule's legs, snuggling under its belly, until the stormshould cease and I could take him before Ranjoor Singh. 

I did not know where the gold was, nor where anything or anybodywas. I could see about three yards, except when the lightningflashed; and then I could see only stricken plain, with dead animalslying about, and fallen tents lumpy with the men who huddledunderneath, and here and there a live animal with his rump to thehail and head between his forelegs. 

When the storm ceased, suddenly, as all such mountain hail-stormsdo, I ordered my trooper in front of me and went limping through thedarkness shouting for Ranjoor Singh, and I found him at last, sitting on the rump of a dead donkey with the ten boxes of gold coinbeside him--quite little boxes, yet only two to a donkey load. 

"I have the gold, " he said. "What have you?"

"A stab, " said I, "and the fool who gave it me!" And I showed myleg, with the blood trickling down. "I had killed a Turk, " said I, "and this muddlehead with no discernment had the impudence to try tofinish the job. Behold the result!"

He was one great bruise from head to foot from hailstones, yet withall he had to think about and all his aches, he had understandingenough to spare for my little problem. He saw at once that he mustpunish the man in order to convince him his account with me wassettled. 

"Be driver of asses, " he ordered, "until we reach Persia! There werefive asses. One is dead. It is good we have another to replace thefifth!"

There goes the trooper, sahib--he yonder with the limp. He and I areas good friends to-day as daffadar and trooper can be, but he wouldhave slain me to save himself from vengeance unless Ranjoor Singhhad punished him that night. But my tale is not of that trooper, norof myself. I tell of Ranjoor Singh. Consider him, sahib, seated onthe dead ass beside ten chests of captured gold, with scarcely a manof us fit to help him or obey an order, and himself bleeding infifty places where the hail had pierced his skin. We were drenchedand numbed, with the spirit beaten out of us; yet I tell you hewiped the blood from his nose and beard and made us save ourselves!

CHAPTER VIII

Once in a lifetime. Once is enough!--HIRA SINGH. 

Well, sahib, our journey was not nearly at an end, but my tale is; Ican finish it by sundown. After that fight there was no more doubtof us; we were one again--one in our faith in our leader, and withmen so minded such a man as Ranjoor Singh can make miracles seemlike details of a day's work. 

Turks who had been bayoneted and Turks slain by hailstones lay allabout us, and we should have been dead, too, only that the hail wasin our backs. As it was, ten of our men lay killed and more thanthirty stunned, some of whom did not recover. Our little Greekdoctor announced himself too badly injured to help any one, but whenRanjoor Singh began to choose a firing party for him, he changed hismind. 

The four living donkeys were too bruised by the hail to bear a load, but the Turks had had some mules with them and we loaded our deadand wounded on those, gathered up the plunder, told off fourtroopers to each chest of gold, and dragged ourselves away. It wasessential that we get back to the hills before dawn should discloseour predicament, for whatever Kurds should chance to spy us wouldnever have been restrained by promises or by ritual of friendshipfrom taking prompt advantage. A savage is a savage. 

The moon came out from behind clouds, and we cursed it, for we didnot want to be seen. It shone on a world made white with hail--on astricken camp--dead animals--dead men. We who had swept down fromthe hills like the very spirit of the storm itself returned like afuneral cortege, all groaning, chilled to the bone by the searchingwind, and it was beginning to be dawn when the last man draggedhimself between the boulders into our camping ground. We looked solittle like victors that the Syrians sent up a wail and Tugendheimbegan tugging at his mustaches, but Ranjoor Singh set them at onceto feeding and grooming animals and soon disillusioned them as tothe outcome of the night. 

Now we began to pray for time, to recover from the effects of hailand chill. Some of the men began to develop fevers, and if RanjoorSingh had not fiercely threatened the doctor, things might have gonefrom bad to worse. As it was, three men died of something the matterwith their lungs, and five men died of wounds. Yet, on the otherhand, we did not desire too much time, because (surest of allcertainties) the Turks were going to send regiments in a hurry towreak vengeance. Before noon, somebody rallied the remnants of theconvoy we had beaten and brought them back to bury dead and look forproperty, and they looked quite a formidable body as I watched themfrom between the boulders. They soon went away again, having foundnothing but tents torn to rags; but I counted more than fourhundred, which rather lessened my conceit. It had been the stormthat night that did the work, not we. 

We could not burn our dead, for lack of sufficient wood, although wedrove the Syrians out of camp to gather more; so we buried them in atrench, and covered them, and laid little fires at intervals alongthe new-stamped earth and set light to those. We did not bury themvery deep, because a bayonet is a fool of a weapon with which toexcavate a grave and a Syrian no expert digger in any case; so whenthe fires were burned out we piled rocks on the grave to defeatjackals. 

The Kurdish chief returned on the fifth day and by that time, although most of us still ached, some of us looked like men again, and what with the plunder we had taken, and the chests of gold infull view, he was well impressed. He began by demanding the gold atonce, and Ranjoor Singh surprised me by the calm courtesy with whichhe refused. 

"Why should my brother seek to alter the terms of our bargain?" heasked. 

For a long time the Kurd made no answer, but sat thinking for someexcuse that might deceive us. Then suddenly he abandoned hope ofargument and flew into a rage, spitting savagely and pouring outsuch a flood of words that Abraham could hardly translate fastenough. 

"That pig you gave me for a hostage played a trick!" he shouted. "Heand a man of mine knew Persian. They talked together. Then in thenight they ran away, and your hostage went to Wassmuss, and has toldhim all the truth and more untruth into the bargain than ten othermen could invent in a year! So Wassmuss threw in my teeth thatletter you gave me, and I was laughed out of countenance by aheritage of spawn of Tophet! And what has Wasmuss done but persuadethree hundred Kurds of a tribe who are my enemies to accept thisduty of escort at a great price! And so your Germans are gone intoPersia already! Now give me the gold and my hostages back, and Iwill leave you to your own devices!"

It was an hour before Ranjoor Singh could calm him, and another houragain before cross-examination induced him to tell all the truth;and the truth was not reassuring. Wassmuss, he said, probably didnot know yet that we had taken the gold, but the news was on theway, for spies had talked in the night with the ten Kurds whom heleft with us to be guides and to help us keep peace. We had giventhose ten a Turkish rifle each and various other plunder, becausethey helped us in the fight, and they had promised in return to holdtheir tongues. But a savage is a savage, and there is nocontroverting it. 

"What is Wassmuss likely to do?" Ranjoor Singh asked. 

"Do?" said the Kurd. "He has done! He has set two tribes by the earsand sent them down to surround you and hem you in and starve you tosurrender! So give me the gold, that I may get away with it before athousand men come to prevent, and give me back my hostages!"

If what was happening now had taken place but a week before, RanjoorSingh would have found himself in a fine fix, for all except I wouldhave there and then denounced him for a bungler, or a knave. But nowthe other daffadars who clustered around him and me said one to theother, "Let us see what our sahib makes of it!" The men sent word toknow what was being revealed through two long hours of talk, andChatar Singh went back to bid them have patience. 

"Is there trouble?" they asked, and he answered "Aye!"

"Tell our sahib we stand behind him!" they answered, and ChatarSingh brought that message and I think it did Ranjoor Singh's heartgood, --not that he would not have done his best in any case. 

"You have lost my hostage, and I hold yours, " he told the Kurd, "sonow, if you want yours back you must pay whatever price I name forthem!"

"Who am I to pay a price?" the Kurd demanded. "I have neither goldnor goods, nor anything but three hundred men!"

"Where are thy men?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Within an hour's ride, " said the Kurd, "watching for the men whocome from Wassmuss. "

"You shall have back your hostages, " said Ranjoor Singh, "when I andmy men set foot in Persia!"

"How shall you reach Persia?" laughed the Kurd. "A thousand men ridenow to shut you off! Nay, give me the gold and my men, and ride backwhence you came!"

Then it was Ranjoor Singh's turn to laugh. "Sikhs who are facinghomeward turn back for nothing less than duty!" he answered. "Ishall fight the thousand men that Wassmuss sends. If they conquer methey will take the gold and your hostages as well. "

The Kurd looked amazed. Then he looked thoughtful. Then acquisitive--veryacquisitive indeed. It seemed to me that he contemplatedfighting us first, before the Wassmuss men could come. But RanjoorSingh understood him better. That Kurd was no fool--only a savage, with a great hunger in him to become powerful. 

"My men are seasoned warriors, " said Ranjoor Singh, "and being menof our word first and last, we are good allies. Has my brother asuggestion?"

"What if I help you into Persia?" said the Kurd. 

But Ranjoor Singh was wary. "Help me in what way?" he asked, and theKurd saw it was no use to try trickery. 

"What if I and my men fight beside you and yours, and so you winthrough to Persia?" asked the Kurd. 

"As I said, " said Ranjoor Singh, "you shall have back your hostageson the day we set foot in Persia. "

"But the gold!" said the Kurd. "But the gold!"

"Half of the gold you shall have on the third day after we reachPersia, " said Ranjoor Singh. 

Well, sahib, as to that they higgled and bargained for another hour, Ranjoor Singh yielding little by little until at last the bargainstood that the Kurd should have all the gold except one chest on theseventh day after we reached Persia. Thus, the Kurds would beobliged to give us escort well on our way. But the bargaining wasnot over yet. It was finally agreed that after we reached Persia, provided the Kurds helped us bravely and with good faith, on thefirst day we would give them back their hostages; on the third daywe would give them Tugendheim, to trade with Wassmuss against theKurd's brother (thus keeping Ranjoor Singh's promise to Tugendheimto provide for him in the end); on the fifth day we would give themour Turkish officer prisoners, to trade with the Turks againstKurdish prisoners; and on the seventh day we would give them thegold and leave to go. We ate more bread and salt on that, and then Iwent to tell the men. 

But I scarcely had time to tell them. Ranjoor Singh had out his mapwhen I left him, and he and the Kurd were poring over it, he tracingwith a finger and asking swift questions, and the Kurd with the aidof Abraham trying to understand. Yet I had hardly told the half ofwhat I meant to say when Ranjoor Singh strode past me, and the Kurdwent galloping away between the boulders to warn his own men, leaving us not only the hostages but the ten guides also. 

"Make ready to march at once--immediately--ek dum!" Ranjoor Singhgrowled to me as he passed, and from that minute until we were awayand well among the hills I was kept too busy with details to do muchconjecturing. A body of soldiers with transport and prisoners, wounded and sick, need nearly as much herding as a flock of sheep, even after months of campaigning when each man's place and dutyshould be second nature. Yet oh, it was different now. There was noneed now to listen for whisperings of treason! Now we knew who thetraitor had been all along--not Ranjoor Singh, who had done his bestfrom first to last, but Gooja Singh, who had let no opportunity goby for defaming him and making trouble!

"This for Gooja Singh when I set eyes on him!" said not one trooperbut every living man, licking a cartridge and slipping it into thebreech chamber as we started. 

We did not take the track up which the Kurdish chief had galloped, but the ten guides led us by a dreadful route round almost the halfof a circle, ever mounting upward. When night fell we camped withoutfires in a hollow among crags, and about midnight when the moon rosethere was a challenge, and a short parley, and a Kurd rode in with amessage from his chief for Ranjoor Singh. The message was verbal, and had to be translated by Abraham, but I did not get to hear thewording of it. I was on guard. 

"It is well, " said Ranjoor Singh to me, when he went the rounds andfound me perched on a crag like a temple minaret, "they are keepingfaith. The Wassmuss men are in the pass below us, and our friendsdeny them passage. At dawn there will be a fight and our friendswill probably give ground. Two hours before dawn we will march, andcome down behind the Wassmuss men. Be ready!"

The sahib will understand now better what I meant by saying AnimSingh has ears too big for his head. Because of his big ears, thatcould detect a foot-fall in the darkness farther away than any ofus, he had been sent to share the guard with me, and now he camelooming up out of the night to share our counsels; for since thenews of Gooja Singh's defection there was no longer even a pretenseat awkwardness in approaching Ranjoor Singh. Anim Singh had beenamong the first to fling distrust to the winds and to make the factevident. 

But into those great ears, during all our days and weeks and monthsof marching, Gooja Singh had whispered--whispered. The things menwhisper to each other are like deeds done in the dark--like ratsthat run in holes--put to shame by daylight. So Anim Singh came now, and Ranjoor Singh repeated to him what he had just told me. AnimSingh laughed. 

"Leave the Kurds to fight it out below, then!" said he. "While theyfight, let us eat up distance into Persia, gold and all!"

Ranjoor Singh, with the night mist sparkling like jewels on hisbeard, eyed him in silence for a minute. Then:

"I give thee leave, " he said, "to take as many men as share thatopinion, and to bolt for your skins into Persia or anywhither! Therest of us will stay and keep the regiment's promise!"

That was enough for Anim Singh. I have said he is a Sikh with asoldier's heart. He wept, there on the ledge, where we three leaned, and begged forgiveness until Ranjoor Singh told him curtly thatforgiveness came of deeds, not words. And his deeds paid the pricethat dawn. He is a very good man with the saber, and the saber hetook from a Turkish officer was, weight and heft and length, thevery image of the weapon he was used to. Nay, who was I to count theKurds he slew. I was busy with my own work, sahib. 

The fight below us began before the earliest color of dawn flickeredalong the heights. And though we started when the first rifle-shotgave warning, hiding our plunder and mules among the crags in chargeof the Syrians, but taking Tugendheim with us, the way was so steepand devious that morning came and found us worrying lest we come toolate to help our friends--even as once we had worried in the RedSea!

But as we had come in the nick of time before, even so now. Weswooped all unexpected on the rear of the Wassmuss men, takingourselves by surprise as much as them, for we had thought the fightyet miles away. Echoes make great confusion in the mountains. It wasechoes that had kept the Wassmuss men from hearing us, although wemade more noise than an avalanche of fighting animals. Straightwaywe all looked for Wassmuss, and none found him, for the simplereason that he was not there; a prisoner we took told us afterwardthat Wassmuss was too valuable to be trusted near the border, wherehe might escape to his own folk. There is no doubt Wassmuss wasprisoner among the Kurds, --nor any doubt either that he directs allthe uprising and raiding and disaffection in Kurdistan and Persia. As Ranjoor Singh said of him--a remarkable man, and not to bedespised. 

Seeing no Wassmuss, it occurred to me at last to listen to orders!Ranjoor Singh was shouting to me as if to burst his lungs. The Kurdswere fighting on foot, taking cover behind boulders, and he wasbidding me take my command and find their horses. 

I found them, sahib, within an ace of being too late. They had leftthem in a valley bottom with a guard of but twenty or thirty men, who mistook us at first for Kurds, I suppose, for they took nonotice of us. I have spent much time wondering whence they expectedmounted Kurds to come; but it is clear they were so sure of victoryfor their own side that it did not enter their heads to suspect usuntil our first volley dropped about half of them. 

Then the remainder began to try to loose the horses and gallop away, and some of them succeeded; but we captured more than half thehorses and began at once to try to get them away into the hills. Butit is no easy matter to manage several hundred frightened horsesthat were never more than half tamed in any case, and many of thembroke away from us and raced after their friends. Then I sent amessenger in a hurry to Ranjoor Singh, to say the utmost had beenattempted and enough accomplished to serve his present purpose, butthe messenger was cut down by the first of a crowd of fugitiveKurds, who seized his reins and fought among themselves to get hishorse. 

Seeing themselves taken in the rear, the Kurds had begun to fallback in disorder, and had actually burst through our mounted ranksin a wild effort to get to their own horses; for like ourselves, theKurds prefer to fight mounted and have far less confidence inthemselves on foot. Ranjoor Singh, with our men, all mounted, andour Kurdish friends, were after them--although our friends were toobusy burdening themselves with the rifles and other belongings ofthe fallen to render as much aid as they ought. 

I left my horse, and climbed a rock, and looked for half a minute. Then I knew what to do; and I wonder whether ever in the world wassuch a running fight before. I had only lost one man; and it wasquite another matter driving the Kurds' horses up the valley in thedirection they wished to take, to attempting to drive themelsewhere. Being mounted ourselves, we could keep ahead of theretreating Kurds very easily, so we adopted the same tactics againand again and again. 

First we drove the horses helter-skelter up the valley a mile ortwo. Then we halted, and hid our own horses, and took cover behindthe rocks to wait for the Kurds; and as they came, making a goodrunning fight of it, dodging hither and thither behind the bouldersto try to pick off Ranjoor Singh's men, we would open fire on theirrear unexpectedly, thus throwing them into confusion again, --andagain, --and again. 

We opened fire always at too great distance to do much materialdamage, I thinking it more important to preserve my own men's livesand so to continue able to demoralize the Kurds, and afterwardRanjoor Singh commended me for that. But I was also acutely aware ofthe risk that our bullets might go past the Kurds and kill our ownSikhs. I am not at all sure some accidents of that nature did nothappen. 

So when we had fired at the Kurds enough to make them face about andso expose their rear to Ranjoor Singh, we would get to horse againand send the Kurdish horses galloping up the pass in front of us. Finally, we lost sight of most of the Kurdish horses, although wecaptured one apiece--which is all a man can manage besides his ownand a rifle. 

By that time it was three in the afternoon already and the passforked about a dozen different ways, so that we lost the Kurds atlast, they scattering to right and left and shooting at us at longrange from the crags higher up. We were all dead beat, and thehorses, too, so we rested, the Kurds continuing to fire at us, butdoing no damage. They fired until dusk. 

Our own three hundred Kurdish friends were not very far behindRanjoor Singh, and I observed when they came up with us presentlythat he took up position down the pass behind them. They were toofond of loot to be trusted between us and that gold! They were soburdened with plunder that some of them could scarcely ride theirhorses. Several had as many as three rifles each, and they had foundgreat bundles of food and blankets where the enemy's horses had beentethered. Their plundering had cost them dear, for they had exposedthemselves recklessly to get what their eyes lusted for. They hadlost more than fifty men. But we had lost more than twenty killed, and there was a very long tale of wounded, so that Ranjoor Singhlooked serious as he called the roll. The Greek doctor had to workthat night as if his own life depended on it--as in fact it did! Wemade Tugendheim help him, for, like all German soldiers, he knewsomething of first aid. 

Then, because the Kurds could not be trusted on such an errand, Ranjoor Singh sent me back with fifty men to bring on the Syriansand our mules and belongings, and the gold. He gave me Chatar Singhto help, and glad I was to have him. A brave good daffadar is ChatarSingh, and now that all suspicion of our leader was weaned out of him, I could ask for no better comrade on a dark night. Night did I say?That was a night like death itself, when a man could scarcely see hisown hand held thus before his face--cold and rainy to make matters worse. 

We had two Kurds to show us the way, and, I suppose because ourenemies had had enough of it, we were not fired on once, going orcoming. Our train of mules clattered and stumbled and our Syrianskept losing themselves and yelling to be found again. Weary men andanimals ever make more noise than fresh ones; frightened men morethan either, and we were so dead weary by the time we got back thatmy horse fell under me by Ranjoor Singh's side. 

Of all the nights I ever lived through, except those last we spentin the trench in Flanders before our surrender, that was the worst. Hunger and cold and fear and weariness all wrought their worst withme; yet I had to set an example to the men. My horse, as I havetold, fell beside Ranjoor Singh; he dragged me to my feet, and Ifell again, dizzy with misery and aching bones. Yet it was beginningto be dawn then, and we had to be up and off again. Our dead wereburied; our wounded were bound up; the Kurds would be likely tobegin on us again at any minute; there was nothing to wait therefor. We left little fires burning above the long grave (for our menhad brought all our dead along with them, although our Kurdishfriends left theirs behind them) and I took one of the capturedhorses, and Ranjoor Singh led on. I slept on the march. Nay, I hadno eyes for scenery just then!

After that the unexpected, amazing, happened as it so often does inwar. We were at the mercy of any handful who cared to waylay us, forthe hillsides shut us in, and there was cover enough among theboulders to have hidden a great army. It was true we had worsted theWassmuss men utterly; I think we slew at least half of them, anddoubtless that, and the loss of their horses, must have taken muchheart out of the rest. But we expected at least to be attacked byfriends of the men we had worsted--by mountain cutthroats, thieves, and plunderers, any fifty of whom could have made our marchimpossible by sniping us from the flanks. 

But nothing happened, and nobody attacked us. As we marched ourspirit grew. We began to laugh and make jokes about the enemyhunting for lost horses and letting us go free. For two days werode, and camped, and slept a little, and rode on unmolested, climbing ever forward to where we could see the peaks that ourfriendly chief assured us were in Persia. For miles and miles andeverlasting miles it seemed the passes all led upward; but therecame a noon at last when we were able to feel, and even see--when atleast we knew in our hearts that the uphill work was over. We couldsee other ranges, running in other directions, and mountains withtree-draped sides. But chiefly it was our hearts that told us wewere really in sight of Persia at last. 

Then wounded and all gathered together, with Ranjoor Singh in themidst of us, and sang the Anand, our Sikh hymn of joy, our Kurdishfriends standing by and wondering (not forgetting nevertheless towatch for opportunity to snatch that gold and run!)

And there, on the very ridge dividing Persia from Asiatic Turkey, itwas given to us to understand at last a little of the why andwherefore of our marching unmolested. We came to a crack in a rockby the wayside. And in the crack had been thrust, so that it stoodupright, a gnarled tree-trunk, carried from who knows how far. Andthere, crucified to the dry wood was our daffadar Gooja Singh, withhis flesh all tortured and torture written in his open eyes--notvery long dead, for his flesh was scarcely cold--although the birdshad already begun on him. Who could explain that? We sat our horsesin a crowd, and gaped like fools!

At last I said, "Leave him to the birds'. " but Ranjoor Singh said"Nay!" Ramnarain Singh, who had ever hated Gooja Singh for reasonsof his own, joined his voice to mine; and because they had no wishto offend me the other daffadars agreed. But Ranjoor Singh rose intoa towering passion over what we said, naming me and Ramnarain Singhin one breath as men too self-righteous to be trusted!

"What proof have we against him?" he demanded. 

"Try him by court martial!" Ramnarain Singh screwed up courage toanswer. "Call for witnesses against him and hear them!"

"Who can try a dead man by court martial?" Ranjoor Singh thunderedback. "He left us to go and be our hostage, for our safety--for thesafety of your ungrateful skins! He died a hostage, given by us tosavages. They killed him. Are ye worse savages than they? Which ofour dead lie dishonored anywhere? Have they not all had burning orelse burial? Are ye judges of the dead? Or are ye content to livelike men? Take him down, and lay him out for burial! His brotherdaffadars shall dig his grave!"

Aye, sahib. So he gave the order, and so we obeyed, saying no more, but digging a trench for Gooja Singh with bayonets, working twotogether turn and turn about, I, who had been all along his enemy, doing the lion's share of the work and thinking of the talks he andI had had, and the disputes. And here was the outcome! Aye. 

It was not a very deep trench but it served, and we laid him in itwith his feet toward India, and covered him, and packed the earthdown tight. Then we burned on the grave the tree to which he hadbeen crucified, and piled a great cairn of stone above him. There weleft him, on the roof of a great mountain that looks down on Persia. 

It was perhaps two hours, or it may have been three, after buryingGooja Singh (we rode on in silence, thinking of him, our woundedgroaning now and then, but even the words of command being given bysign instead of speech because none cared to speak) that we learnedthe explanation, and more with it. 

We found a good place to camp, and proceeded to make it defensibleand to gather fuel. Then some of the women belonging to our Kurdishfriends overtook us, and with them a few of our Kurdish wounded andsome unwounded ones who had returned to glean again on thebattlefield. These brought with them two prisoners whom we set in themidst, and then Abraham was set to work translating until his tonguemust have almost fallen out with weariness. Bit by bit, we pieced atale together that had reason in it and so brought us understanding. 

Our first guess had been right; the Turks had already sent (somesaid a full division) to wreak vengeance for our plundering of thegold. The Kurds of those parts, who fight among themselves like wildbeasts, nevertheless will always stand together to fight Turks;therefore those who had been attacking us were now behind us withthousands of other Kurds from the tribes all about, waiting todispute the passes with the common enemy. They considered us aninsignificant handful, to be dealt with later on. The women said thebattle had not begun; and the prisoners bade our Kurds swallowtribal enmity and hurry to do their share! The chief listened tothem, saying nothing. Has the sahib ever watched a savage thinkingwhile lust drew him one way and pride another? Truly an interestingsight!

But the rest of the men were too interested to learn the reason ofGooja Singh's torture and death to care for the workings of aKurdish chief's conscience. They crowded closer and closer, interrupting with shouted questions and bidding each other be still. So Ranjoor Singh said a word to Abraham and he changed the line ofquestioning. The truth was soon out. 

Gooja Singh, it seemed, probably not believing we had one chance ina million, decided to contrive safety for himself. So with one Kurdto help him, he escaped in the night, and went and found Wassmuss ina Kurdish village in the mountains. He told Wassmuss who we were, and whence we were, and what we intended. So Wassmuss (who must be avery remarkable man indeed), although a prisoner, exerted so muchpersuasion forthwith that three hundred Kurds consented to escortthe party of Germans there and then to Afghanistan. He promised themI know not what reward, but the point is they consented, and withineight hours of Gooja Singh's arrival the German party was on itsway. 

Then Wassmuss sent the thousand Kurds to deal with us; but, as Ihave told, we beat them. And that made the Kurds who held Wassmussprisoner extremely angry with Gooja Singh; so they made himprisoner, too. And then, by signal and galloper and shouts from cragto crag came word that the Turks were marching in force to invadethe mountains, and instantly they turned on Gooja Singh and wouldhave torn him in pieces for being a spy of the Turks, sent on aheadto prepare the way. But some cooler head than the rest urged to puthim to the torture, and they agreed. 

Whether or not Gooja Singh declared under torture that we were Turkswe could not get to know, but it is certain that the Kurds decidedwe were Turks, whatever Wassmuss swore to the contrary; anddoubtless he swore furiously! And because they believed us to beTurks, they let us be for the present, sure that we would try tomake our way back if they could keep the main Turkish forces fromregaining touch with us. And Gooja Singh they presently crucified ina place where we would almost surely see him, thinking thus tosurprise us with the information that all was known, and to frightenus into a state of comparative harmlessness--a favorite Kurdishtrick. 

That did not account for everything. It did not account for ourvictory over Turks in the hail-storm and our plunder of the Turks'camp and capture of the gold. But none had seen that raid because ofthe storm, and the spies who had said they talked with our men inthe night were now disbelieved. Our presence in the hills and GoojaSingh's escape was all set down to Turkish trickery; and doubtlessthey did not believe we truly had gold with us, or they would havedetached at least a party to follow us up and keep in touch. 

The clearest thing of all that the disjointed scraps of talebetrayed was that we were in luck! If the Kurds believed us to beTurks, they were likely to let us wander at will, if only for thevery humor and sport of hunting us down when we should try to breakback. "No need to waste more labor setting this camp to rights!"said I. "We shall rest a little and be up and away again!" And thewounded groaned, and some objected, but I proved right. RanjoorSingh was no man to study comfort when opportunity showed itself. Werested two hours, and during those two hours our friend the Kurdishchief made tip his mind, and he and Ranjoor Singh struck a newbargain. 

"Give me the gold!" said he. "Keep the hostages and ten of my men toguide you, and send them back when you are two days into Persia. Igo to fight against the Turks!"

Well, they bargained, and bargained. Ranjoor Singh offered him hischoice of a chest of gold then and there, or four-fifths of thewhole in Persia; and in the end he agreed to take three chests ofgold then and there, and to leave us the hostages and thirty men tosee us on our way. "For, " said Ranjoor Singh, "how should thehostages and my prisoners return to you safely otherwise?"

So we kept two chests of gold, and found them right usefulpresently. And we said good-by to him and his men, and put out ourown fires and rode eastward. And of the next few days there isnothing to tell except furious marching and very little sleep--normuch to eat either. 

Once we were well into Persia we bought food right and left, payingfabulous prices for it with gold from our looted chests. Here andthere we traded a plundered rifle for a new horse, sometimes two newhorses. Here and there a wounded man would die and we would burn hisbody (for now there was fuel in plenty). Day after day, night afternight, Ranjoor Singh kept in the saddle, hunting tirelessly for newsof the party of Germans on ahead of us. Their track was clear asdaylight, and on the fifth day (or was it the sixth) after weentered Persia he learned at last that we were only a day or twobehind them. Like us, they were in a hurry; but unlike us, they hadno Ranjoor Singh to force the pace and do the scouting, so that forall their long lead we were overtaking them. 

Like us, they seemed wary of the public eye, for they followedlonely routes among the wooded foothills; but their Kurdish horsemenleft a track no blind man could have missed, and although theyplundered a little as they went, they spent gold, too, like water, so that the villagers were in a strange mood. Most of the plunderingwas done by their Kurdish escort who, it seemed, kept returning tosteal the money paid by the Germans for provisions. Sometimes whenwe offered gold we would be mocked. But on the whole, we began tohave an easy time of it--all but the wounded, who suffered torturesfrom the pace we held. We secured some carts at one village and putour wounded in them, but the carts were springless, and there wereno roads at all, so that it was better in those days to be a deadman than a sick or wounded one! There was no malingering!

After a few days (I forget how many, for who can remember all thedays and distances of that long march?) Abraham got word of a greatChristian mission station where thousands of Christians had soughtsafety under the American flag. He and his Syrians elected to trytheir fortune there, and we let them go, all of us saluting Abraham, for he was a good brave man, fearful, but able to overcome his fear, and intelligent far beyond the ordinary. We let the Syrians taketheir rifles and some ammunition with them, because Abraham saidthey might be called on perhaps to help defend the mission. 

Not long after that, we let our Kurds go, giving up our Turkishofficer prisoners and Tugendheim as well. We all knew by that timewhat our final goal was, and Tugendheim begged to be allowed to gowith us all the way. But Ranjoor Singh refused him. 

"I promised you to the Kurd, and the Kurd will trade you to Wassmussagainst his brother, " he said. "Tell Wassmuss whatever lies youlike, and make your peace with your own folk however you can. Hereis your paper back. "

Tugendheim took the paper. (You remember, sahib, he had signed areceipt in conjunction with the Turkish mate and captain of thatship in which we escaped from Stamboul. ) Well, he took the paperback, and burned it in the little fire by which I was sitting facingRanjoor Singh. 

"Let me go with you!" he urged. "It will be rope or bullet for me ifever I get back to Germany!"

"Nevertheless, " said Ranjoor Singh, "I promised to deliver you toWassmuss when we made you prisoner in the first place. I must keepmy word to you!"

"I release you from your word to me!" said Tugendheim. 

"And I promised you to the Kurdish chief. "

"The Kurdish chief?" said Tugendheim. "What of him? What of it? Why, why, why--he is a savage--scarcely human--not to be weighed in thescales against a civilized man! What does such a promise as thatamount to?" And he stood tugging at his mustaches as if he wouldtear them out. 

"I have some gold left, " said Ranjoor Singh, when he was sureTugendheim had no more to say, "and I had seriously thought ofbuying you for gold from these Kurds. There may be one of them whowould take on himself the responsibility of speaking for his chief. But since you hold my given word so light as that I must look morenearly to my honor. Nay, go with the Kurds, Sergeant Tugendheim!"

Tugendheim made a great wail. He begged for this, and he begged forthat. He begged us to give him a letter to Wassmuss explaining thatwe had compelled him by threats of torture. He begged for gold. AndRanjoor Singh gave him a little gold. Some of us put in a word forhim, for on that long journey he had told many a tale to make uslaugh. He had suffered with us. He had helped us more than a littleby drilling the Syrians, and often his presence with us had savedour skins by convincing Turkish scouts of our bona fides. We thoughtof Gooja Singh, and had no wish that Tugendheim should meet a likefate. So, perhaps because we all begged for him, or perhaps becausehe so intended in the first place, Ranjoor Singh relented. 

"The Persians hereabouts, " he said, "all tell me that a greatRussian army will come down presently from the north. Have I heardcorrectly that you meditated escape into Russia?"

Tugendheim answered, "How should I reach Russia?"

"That is thy affair!" said Ranjoor Singh. "But here is more gold, "and he counted out to him ten more golden German coins. "You mustride back with these Kurds, but I have no authority over them. Theyare not my men. They seem to like gold more than most things. "

So Tugendheim ceased begging for himself and rode away ratherdespondently in the midst of the Kurds; and we followed about a dayand a half behind the German party with their strange box-full ofmachinery. There were many of us who could talk Persian, and as westopped in the villages to beg or buy curdled milk, and as werounded up the cattle-herdsmen and the women by the wells, we heardmany strange and wonderful stories about what the engine in that boxcould do. I observed that Ranjoor Singh looked merry-eyed when thewildest stories reached him; but we all began to reflect on thedisastrous consequences of letting such crafty people reachAfghanistan. For, as doubtless the sahib knows, the amir ofAfghanistan has a very great army; and if he were to decide that theGerman side is after all the winning one he might make very muchtrouble for the government of India. 

And now there was no longer any doubt that the machine slung in thebox between two mules was a wireless telegraph, and that most of theother mules were loaded with accessories. The tales we heard couldnot be made to tally with any other explanation. And what, said we, was to prevent the Germans in Stamboul from signaling whatever liesthey could invent to this party in Afghanistan, supposing theyshould ever reach the country? Yet when we argued thus with RanjoorSingh, he laughed. 

And then, after about a week of marching, came Tugendheim back tous, ragged and thirsty and nearly dead, on a horse more dead thanhe. He had bought himself free from the Kurds with the gold RanjoorSingh gave him; but because he had no more gold the Persians hadrefused to feed him. "How should he find his way alone to meet theRussians, " he said, "whose scouts would probably shoot him on sightin any case?" So we laughed, and let him rest among our wounded andbe one of us, --aye, one of us; for who were we to turn him away tostarve? He had served us well, and he served us well again. 

Has the sahib heard of Bakhtiari Khans? They are people as fierce asKurds, who live like the Kurds by plundering. The Germans ahead ofus, doubtless because Persia is neutral in this war and thereforethey had no conceivable right to be crossing the country, chose aroute that avoided all towns and cities of considerable size. AndPersia seems to have no army any more, so that there was no officialopposition. But the Bakhtiari Khans received word of what was doing, and after that there were new problems. But for the fact thatTugendheim was with us in his ragged German uniform we should havehad more trouble than we did. 

At first the Khans were content with blackmail, holding up theGermans at intervals and demanding money. But I suppose that finallytheir money all gave out, and then the Kahns put threats intopractise. But before actual skirmishing began the Khans would cometo us, after getting money from the Germans, and it was only thefact that we had Tugendheim to show that convinced them we belongedto the party ahead. Ranjoor Singh claimed that our transit fee hadbeen paid for us already, and the Khans did not deny it. 

But they caught up the Germans again and demanded money from thembecause of us who were following, and I have laughed many a time tothink of the predicament that put them in. For could they deny allknowledge of us? In that case they might he denying useful allies intheir hour of need. If the Bakhtiari Khans should annihilate ustheir own fate would not be likely to tremble in the balance verylong. Yet if they admitted knowledge of us, what might that not leadto? And how was it possible for them to know really who we were inany case?

Finally, they sent one of their Kurdish servants back to find us andask questions. And to him we showed Tugendheim, and spoke to him atgreat length in Persian, of which he understood very little; so thatwhen he overtook his own party again (if he ever did, for the Khanswere on the prowl and very cruel and savage), they may have beenmore in the dark about us than ever. 

At last the Bakhtiari Khans began guerrilla warfare, and the Kurdswho were escorting the Germans retaliated by burning and plunderingthe villages by which they passed--which incensed the Khans yetmore, because they did not belong to that part of Persia and hadcounted on the plunder for themselves. From time to time we caught aBakhtiari Khan, and though they spoke poor Persian, some of us couldunderstand them. They explained that the Persian government, beingvery weak, made use of them to terrorize whatever section of thecountry seemed rebellious--surely a sad way to govern a land!

There were not very many of the Khans. They are used to raiding inparties of thirty to fifty, or perhaps a hundred. I think there werenot many more of them than of the German party and us combined; andat that the Bakhtiari Khans were all divided into independenttroops. So that the danger was not so serious as it seemed. Butguerrilla warfare is very trying to the nerves, and if we had nothad Ranjoor Singh to lead us we should have failed in the end; forwe were fighting in a strange land, with no base to fall back on andnothing to do but press forward. 

The Kurds, too, who escorted the Germans, began to grow sick of it. Little parties of them began to pass us on their way home, giving usa wide berth, but passing close enough, nevertheless, to get somesort of protection from our proximity, and the numbers of thoseparties grew and grew until we laughed at the thought of whatanxiety the Germans must be suffering. Yet Ranjoor Singh grewanxious, too, for the Khans grew bolder. It began to look as ifneither Germans nor we would ever reach half-way to the Afghanborder. Ranjoor Singh was the finest leader men could have, but wewere being sniped eternally, men falling wounded here and thereuntil scarcely one of us but had a hurt of some kind--to say nothingof our sick. Men grew sick from bad food, and unaccustomed food, andhard riding and exposure. Our little Greek doctor took sick anddied, and we had nothing but ignorance left with which to treat ourailments. We began to be a sorry-looking regiment indeed. Nevertheless, the ignorance helped, for at least we did not know howserious our wounds were. I myself received one bullet that passedthrough both ankles, and it is not likely I shall ever walk againwithout a limp. Yet if I can ride what does that matter so long asthe government has horses? And if a man limps in both feet whereinis he the loser? Mine was a slight wound compared to some of them. We had come to a poor pass, but Ranjoor Singh's good sense saved theday again. 

There came a day when the Bakhtiari Khans gave us a terrible lastattention and then left us--as it turned out for good (although wedid not know then it was for good). We watched their dust as theirdifferent troops gathered together and rode away southward. Isuppose they had received word of better opportunity for plundersomewhere else; they took little but hard knocks from us, anddoubtless any change was welcome. When we had seen the last of them, and had watched the vultures swoop down on a horse they had leftbehind, we took new heart and rode on; and it so happened that theGermans chose that occasion for a rest. Their dwindling Kurdishescort was growing mutinous and they took advantage of a villagewith high mud walls to get behind cover and try to reestablishconfidence. Perhaps they, too, saw the Bakhtiari Khans retiring inthe distance, for we were close behind them at that time--so closethat even with tired horses we came on them before they could manthe village wall. We knocked a hole in the wall and had a good widebreach established in no time, to save ourselves trouble in case thegates should prove too strongly held; and leaving Anim Singh postedin the breach with his troop, Ranjoor Singh sent a trooper with awhite flag to the main gate. 

After ten or fifteen minutes the German commanding officer rode out, also with a white flag, and not knowing that Ranjoor Singh knewGerman, he spoke English. (Tugendheim had taken his tunic offand--all sweaty and trembling had hidden behind the ranks disguised witha cloth tied about his head. ) I sat my horse beside Ranjoor Singh, so I heard all. 

"Persia is neutral territory!" said the German. 

"Are you, then, neutral?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Are you?" asked the German. He was a handsome bullet-headed manwith a bold eye, and I knew that to browbeat or trick him would beno easy matter. Nevertheless he still had so many Kurds at his backthat I doubted our ability to get the better of him in a fight, considering our condition. 

"I could be neutral if I saw fit, " answered Ranjoor Singh, and theGerman's eyes glittered. 

"If you are neutral, ride on then!" he laughed. I saw his eye teeth. It was a mean laugh. 

"What are you doing here?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Minding my business, " said the German pointedly. 

"Then I will mind mine and investigate, " said Ranjoor Singh, and heturned to me as if to give an order, at which the German changed histactics in a hurry. 

"My business is simple, " said the German. "Perfectly simple andperfectly neutral. We have a wireless installation with us. It isall ready to set up in this village. In a few moments we shall bereceiving messages from Europe, and then we shall inform theinhabitants of these parts how matters stand. As neutrals they areentitled to that information. " Their eyes met, each seeking to readthe other's mind, and the German misunderstood, as most Germans Ihave met do misunderstand. 

"Before we can receive a message we shall send one, " said theGerman. "Before I came out to meet you, I gave the order to get intouch with Constantinople and signal this: That we are beinginterfered with and our lives are endangered on neutral territory bytroops belonging to British India, and therefore that all BritishIndian prisoners-of-war in Germany should be made hostages for oursafety. That means, " he went on, "that unless we signal every daythat all is well, a number of your countrymen in Germanycorresponding to the number of my party will be lined up against awall and shot. "

"So that message has been sent?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"Yes, " said the German. 

"Then send this message also, " said Ranjoor Singh: "That the end hascertainly come. Then close up your machine because unless you wishto fight for your existence there will be no more messages sent orreceived by you between here and Afghanistan. "

I thought that a strange message for Ranjoor Singh to bid him send. I did not believe that one of us, however weary, was willing toaccept relief at the price of our friends' lives. Nevertheless, Isaid nothing, having learned it is not wise to draw too swiftconclusions when Ranjoor Singh directs the strategy. 

But the German evidently thought so, too, for his eyes lookedstartled, and I took comfort from that. 

"I understand you wish to reach Afghanistan?" asked Ranjoor Singh. 

"That is our eventual destination, " said the German. 

"Very well, " said Ranjoor Singh. "Pack up your machine. Then I willpermit your journey to the Afghan border, unhampered by me, on twoconditions. "

"What two conditions?" asked the German. 

"That your machine shall remain packed up until you reachAfghanistan, and that your doctor shall divide his services untilthen equally between your men and mine. "

"And after that, what?" asked the German. 

"I have nothing to do with Afghanistan, " said Ranjoor Singh. "Keepthe bargain and you are free as far as I am concerned to do what youlike when you get there. "

So we had a doctor again at last, for the German agreed to theterms. Not one of us but needed medical aid, and the men were tooglad to have their hurts attended, to ask very many questions; butthey were certainly surprised, and suspicious of the newarrangement, and I did not dare tell them what I had overheard forfear lest suspicion of Ranjoor Singh be reawakened. I refused evento tell the other daffadars, which caused some slight estrangementbetween them and me. However, Ranjoor Singh was as conscious of thatrisk as I, and during all the rest of the long march he kept theircamp and ours, their column and ours half an hour's rideapart--sometimes even farther--sometimes half a day apart, to the disgustof the doctor, who had that much more trouble, but with the resultof preventing greater friction. 

To tell of all that journey across Persia would be but to rememberweariness--weariness of horse and men. Sometimes we were attacked;more often we were run away from. We grew sick, our wounds festeredand our hearts ached. Horses died and the vultures ate them. Mendied, and we buried or burned their bodies according or not as wehad fuel. We dried, as it were, like the bone-dry trail we followed, and only Ranjoor Singh's heart was stout; only he was brave; only hehad a song on his lips. He coaxed us, and cheered us, and ralliedus. The strength of the regiment was but his strength, and as forthe other party, who hung on our flank, or lagged behind us orpreceded us by half a day, their Kurds deserted by fives and tensuntil there was scarcely a corporal's guard remaining. 

They must have been as weary as we, and as glad as we when at lastat the end of a long drawn afternoon, we saw an Afghan sentry. 

Has the sahib ever seen an Afghan sentry?

This one was gray and old and sat on his gray pony like a huddledape with a tattered umbrella over his shoulder and his rifle acrosshis knees. He looked less like a sentry than like a dead man dug upand set there to scare the birds away. But he was efficient, nodoubt of that. He had seen us and passed on word of us the minute weshowed on the sky-line, and the hills all about him were full ofarmed men waiting to give us a hot reception if necessary and to barfarther progress in any case. 

So there we had to camp, just over the Afghan border, but fartherapart from the Germans than ever--two, three miles apart, for now itbecame Ranjoor Singh's policy to know nothing whatever about them. The Afghans provided us with rations and sent us one of their owndoctors dressed in the uniform of a tram-car conductor, and theirhighest official in those parts, whose rank I could not guessbecause he was arrayed in the costume of a city of London policeman, asked innumerable questions, first of Ranjoor Singh and then of eachof us individually. But we conferred together, and stuck to onepoint, that we knew nothing. Ranjoor Singh did not know better thanwe. The more he asked the more dumb we became until, perhaps with aview to loosing our tongues, the Afghans who mingled among us in thecamp began telling what the Germans were saying and doing on therise two miles away. 

They had their machine set up, said they. They were receivingmessages, said they, with this wonderful wireless telegraph oftheirs. They kept receiving hourly news of disasters to the Alliedarms by land and sea. And we were fearfully disturbed about allthis, because we knew how important it must be for India's safetythat Afghanistan continue neutral. And why should such savagescontinue neutral if they were once persuaded that the winning sidewas that of the Central Powers? Nevertheless, Ranjoor Singhcontinued to grow more and more contented, and I wondered. Some ofthe men began to murmur. 

In that camp we remained, if I rightly remember, six days. And thencame word from Habibullah Kahn, the Afghan amir, that we might drawnearer Khabul. So, keeping our distance from the Germans, we helpedone another into the saddle (so weak most of us were by that time)and went forward three days' march. Then we camped again, muchcloser to the Germans this time, in fact, almost within shoutingdistance; and they again set up their machine, causing sparks tocrackle from the wires of a telescopic tower they raised, to thevery great concern of the Afghans who were in and out of both campsall day long. One message that an Afghan told me the Germans hadreceived, was that the British fleet was all sunk and Paris taken. But that sort of message seemed to me familiar, so that I was not sodepressed by it as my Afghan informant had hoped. He went off toprocure yet more appalling news to bring me, and no doubt wasaccommodated. I should have had burning ears, but that about thattime, their amir came, Habibullah Kahn, looking like a European inhis neatly fitting clothes, but surrounded by a staff of officersdressed in greater variety of uniforms than one would have believedto exist. He had brought with him his engineers to view thiswonderful machine, but before approaching either camp--perhaps toshow impartiality--he sent for the German chief and one, and forRanjoor Singh and one. So, since the German took his doctor, RanjoorSingh took me, he and I both riding, and the amir graciouslyexcusing me from dismounting when I had made him my salaam and hehad learned the nature of the wound. 

After some talk, the amir asked us bluntly whence we came and whatour business might be, and Ranjoor Singh answered him we wereescaped prisoners of war. Then he turned on the German, and theGerman told him that because the British had seen fit to cut offAfghanistan from all true news of what was happening in the worldoutside, therefore the German government, knowing well the open mindand bravery and wisdom of the amir and his subjects, had senthimself at very great trouble and expense to receive true messagesfrom Europe and so acquaint with the true state of affairs a rulerand people with whom Germany desired before all things to be onfriendly terms. 

After that we all went down in a body--perhaps a hundred men, withthe amir at our head, to the German camp; and there the German andhis officers displayed the machine to the amir, who, with a dozen ofhis staff around him, appeared more amused than astonished. 

So the Germans set their machine in motion. The sparks made muchcrackling from the wires, at which the amir laughed aloud. Presentlythe German chief read off a message from Berlin, conveying thekaiser's compliments to his highness, the amir. 

"Is that message from Berlin?" the amir asked, and I thought I heardone of his officers chuckle. 

"Yes, Your Highness, " said the German officer. 

"Is it not relayed from anywhere?" the amir asked, and the Germanstared at him swiftly--thus, as if for the first time his ownsuspicion were aroused. 

"From Stamboul, Your Highness--relayed from Stamboul, " he said, asone who makes concessions. 

The amir chuckled softly to himself and smiled. 

"These are my engineers, " said he, "all college trained. They tellme our wireless installation at Khabul, which connects us throughSimla with Calcutta and the world beyond, is a very good one, yet itwill only reach to Simla, although I should say it is a hundredtimes as large as yours, and although we have an enormous dynamo togive the energy as against your box of batteries. "

The Germans, who were clustered all about their chief, kept straightfaces, but their eyes popped round and their mouths grew stiff withthe effort to suppress emotion. 

"This, Your Highness, is the last new invention, " said the Germanchief. 

"Then my engineers shall look at it, " said the amir, "for we wish tokeep abreast of the inventions. As you remarked just now, we are alittle shut off from the world. We must not let slip suchopportunities for education. " And then and there he made hisengineers go forward to inspect everything, he scarce concealing hismerriment; and the Germans stood aside, looking like thieves caughtin the act while the workings were disclosed of such a wirelessapparatus as might serve to teach beginners. 

"It might serve perhaps between one village and the next, while thebatteries persisted, " they said, reporting to the amir presently. The amir laughed, but I thought he looked puzzled-perplexed, ratherthan displeased. He turned to Ranjoor Singh:

"And you are a liar, too?" he asked. 

"Nay, Your Royal Highness, I speak truth, " said Ranjoor Singh, saluting him in military manner. 

"Then what do you wish?" asked the amir. "Do you wish to beinterned, seeing this is neutral soil on which you trespass?"

"Nay, Your Royal Highness, " answered Ranjoor Singh, with a curtlaugh, "we have had enough of prison camps. "

"Then what shall be done with you?" the amir asked. "Here are menfrom both sides, and how shall I be neutral?"

The German chief stepped forward and saluted. 

"Your Royal Highness, we desire to be interned, " he said. But theamir glowered savagely. 

"Peace!" said he. "I asked you nothing, one string of lies wasenough! I asked thee a question, " he said, turning again to RanjoorSingh. 

"Since Your Royal Highness asks, " said Ranjoor Singh, "it would be aneutral act to let us each leave your dominions by whichever road wewill!"

The amir laughed and turned to his attendants, who laughed with him. 

"That is good, " said he. "So let it be. It is an order!"

So it came about, sahib, that the Germans and ourselves were orderedhotfoot out of the amir's country. But whereas there was only oneway the Germans could go, viz, back into Persia, there to helpthemselves as best they could, the road Ranjoor Singh chose wasforward to the Khyber Pass, and so down into India. 

Aye, sahib, down into India! It was a long road, but the Afghanswere very kind to us, providing us with food and blankets and givingsome of us new horses for our weary ones, and so we came at last toLandi Kotal at the head of the Khyber, where a long-legged Englishsahib heard our story and said "Shabash!" to Ranjoor Singh--thatmeans "Well done!" And so we marched down the Khyber, they signalingahead that we were coming. We slept at Ali Mas jib because neitherhorses nor men could move another yard, but at dawn next day we wereoff again. And because they had notice of our coming, they turnedout the troops, a division strong, to greet us, and we took thesalute of a whole division as we had once taken the salute of two inFlanders, Ranjoor Singh sitting his charger like a graven image, andwe--one hundred three-and-thirty men and the prisoner Tugendheim, who had left India eight hundred strong-reeling in the saddle fromsickness and fatigue while a roar went up in Khyber throat such as Iscarcely hope to hear again before I die. Once in a lifetime, sahib, once is enough. They had their bands with them. The same tune burston our ears that had greeted us that first night of our charge inFlanders, and we--great bearded men--we wept like little ones. Theyplayed IT IS A LONG, LONG WAY TO TIPPERARY. 

Then because we were cavalry and entitled to the same, they gave usBONNIE DUNDEE and the horses cantered to it; but some of us rolledfrom the saddle in sheer weakness. Then we halted in something likea line, and a general rode up to shake hands with Ranjoor Singh andto say things in our tongue that may not be repeated, for they werewords from heart to heart. And I remember little more, for I, too, swooned and fell from the saddle. 

The shadows darkened and grew one into another. Hira Singh satdrawing silently in the dust, with his injured feet stretched out infront of him. A monkey in the giant tree above us shook down alittle shower of twigs and dirt. A trumpet blared. There began muchbusiness of closing tents and reducing the camp to superhumantidiness. 

"So, sahib, " he said at last, "they come to carry me in. It is timemy tale is ended. Ranjoor Singh they have made bahadur. God granthim his desire! May my son be such a man as he, when his day comes. 

"Me! They say I shall be made commissioned officer--the law ischanged since this great war began. Yet what did I do compared towhat Ranjoor Singh did? Each is his own witness and God alone isjudge. Does the sahib know what this war is all about?

"I believe no two men fight for the same thing. It is a war in eachman's heart, each man fighting as the spirit moves him. So, theycome for me. Salaam, sahib. Bohut salaam. May God grant the sahibpeace. Peace to the sahib's grandsons and great-grandsons. With eacharm thus around a trooper's neck will the sahib graciously excuse mefrom saluting?"

THE END