for graves to lie
in? The talk along the way had been of who should bury us, or who
should bury the last man, supposing we all died one by one! Had we
not been famished until the very wind was a wall too heavy to
prevail against? And were we not now what the drill-book calls a
composite force, with full bellies, carts, horses and equipment? Who
thought about graves any longer? I lay and laughed, sahib, until a
trooper brought me dinner--laughed for contempt of the Germans we
had left behind, and for the Turks whose plunder we had stolen,--laughed
like 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 my
ankles. Nevertheless I contrived to stride with military manner, in
order that any Turk or Syrian beholding me might know me for a man
to be reckoned with, the added pain and effort being well worth
while.

Nor did I have far to look for Ranjoor Singh. The instant I raised
my eyes I saw him sitting on a great rock beneath the shadow of a
tree, with his horse tied below him eating corn from a cloth spread
on the ground. In order to reach him with least inconvenience, I
made a circuit and approached from the rear, because in that
direction the rock sloped away gradually and I was in no mood to
climb, nor in condition to climb with dignity.

So it happened that I came on him unaware. Nevertheless, I was
surprised that his ears should not detect my footfall. The horse,
six feet below us, was aware of me first and snorted, yet Ranjoor
Singh did not turn his head.

"Sahib!" said I; but he did not move.

"Sahib!" I said, going a step nearer and speaking louder. But he
neither moved nor answered. Now I knew there was no laughing matter,
and my hand trembled as I held it out to touch his shoulder. His
arms were folded above his knees and his chin rested on them. I
shook him slightly, and his chin fell down between his knees; but he
did not answer. Now I knew beyond doubt he was not asleep, for
however weary he would ever awake at a touch or the lightest
whisper. I began to fear he was dead, and a feeling of sickness
swept over me as that grim fear took hold.

"Sahib!" I said again, taking his shoulders with both hands. And he
toppled over toward me, thus, like a dead man. Yet he breathed. I
made certain he was breathing.

I shook him twice or thrice, with no result. Then I took him in my