s are much greater than
heroes."

"It doesn't seem as if heroes were made nowadays," said Bracy, laughing.
"Hullo! where are you taking us?"

"Right up to the top of the highest tower to pay your respects to the
British Raj. I helped the colour-sergeant to fix it up there. We put
up a new pole twice as high as the old one, so as to make the enemy
waxy, and show him that we meant to stay."

"All right; we may as well see every place while we're about it."

"You can get a splendid lookout over the enemy's camping-ground, too,
from up here."

"Then you still think that these are enemies?"

"Certain," said Drummond; and words were spared for breathing purposes
till the flag-pole was reached, and the young subaltern passed his arm
round it and stood waiting while his companions took a good long
panoramic look.

"There you are," he then said. "See that green patch with the
snow-pyramid rising out of it?"

"Yes; not big, is it?"

"Awful, and steep. That mountain's as big as Mont Blanc; and from that
deodar forest right up the slope is the place to go for bear."

"Where are the pheasants?" asked Roberts, taking out his glass.

"Oh, in the woods down behind the hills there," said Drummond, pointing.
"Splendid fellows; some of reddish-brown with white spots, and bare
heads all blue and with sort of horns. Then you come upon some great
fellows, the young ones and the hens about coloured like ours, but with
short, broad tails. But you should see the cock-birds. Splendid. They
have grand, greeny-gold crests, ruby-and-purple necks, a white patch on
their back and the feathers all about it steely-blue and green, while
their broad, short tails are cinnamon-colour."

"You seem to know all about them," said Bracy, laughing.

"Shot lots. They're thumpers, and a treat for the poor ladies, when I
get any; but it has been getting worse and worse lately. Couldn't have
a day's shooting without the beggars taking pop-shots at you from the
hills. I don't know where we should have been if their guns shot
straight."

"Well, we shall have to drive the scoundrels farther off," said Roberts,
"for I want some shooting."

"Bring your gun?" cried Drummond, eagerly.

"Regular battery. So did he; didn't you, Bracy?"

There was no reply.

"Bracy, are you deaf?"

"No, no," said the young man hurriedly, as he stood in one corner of the
square tower, resting his binocular upon the parapet, and gazing through
it intently.