he looked about for men who, as he
expressed it, were "accustomed to look after themselves and not easily
taken aback by any sudden emergency,"--men born and bred to the sword,
who had faced death a hundred times from childhood upwards, and who had
thus instinctively learnt to be alert, brave, and self-reliant. To these
hardy warriors Lumsden explained the simple doctrine that they were
enlisted for three years, had to do what they were bid, and would
receive a certain fixed salary every month for their trouble.

Soldiers of fortune and dashing young bloods from all the countryside
flocked to his standard, and so popular was the corps that there were
sometimes as many as thirty of these receiving no pay, and maintaining
themselves and their horses, while awaiting a vacancy. And great indeed
was the excitement when Lumsden, in his bluff breezy way, would say:
"Well, here's a vacancy, and I don't for the life of me know which of
you to give it to. Come along down to the rifle-range, and shoot it off
amongst yourselves; the best shot gets the vacancy." And off they would
go to the range, with all their friends and relations to the fifth
generation, and all the partisans in the corps of each competitor:
shooting for the King's Prize at Bisley is a flat and tame proceeding in
comparison with this. And as each shot was fired the friends of the
competitor would yell: "_Shahbash_! Bravo! Well shot! Another bull's
eye! You will win for certain." While rival interests would with equal
emphasis discredit the performance: "This bull's eye was certainly an
accident. God willing he will miss next time. Bravo! let us not lose
heart!"

The demeanour of the winner on such occasions would make a Master in
Lunacy look grave. The happy young fellow would jump into the air,
yelling and pirouetting, brandishing a sword, and at frequent intervals
letting off a gun, nominally into the air, while most of his friends did
likewise, embracing and congratulating him in the intervals. Without
taking a seat amongst the Scribes and Pharisees, it is perhaps
permissible to notice that such a scene as this is in curious contrast
to that to be seen in any French or German country town when lots are
being drawn for conscription. There the youth, who by drawing a lucky
number escapes serving his country, is congratulated, feted, and led in
procession round the streets.

One hard and fast rule, however, Lumsden made. He would take no low
caste men; he wou