Ajeet rode a Marwari stallion, a black, roach-crested brute, with bad
hocks and an evil eye. The Ajeet sat his horse a convincing figure, a
Rajput Raja.

Beneath a rich purple coat gleamed, like silver tracery, his steel
shirt-of-mail; through his sash of red silk was thrust a
straight-bladed sword, and from the top of his turban of
blue-and-gold-thread, peeped a red cap with dangling tassel of gold.

In the afternoon of the second day the Bagrees came to the village of
Sarorra.

"We will camp here," the leader commanded, "close to the mango _tope_
through which we have just passed, then we will summon the headman, and
if he is as such accursed officials are, the holy one, the yogi, will
cast upon him and his people a curse; also I will threaten him with the
loss of his ears."

"The one who is to be destroyed has not yet come," Hunsa declared, "for
here is what these dogs of villagers call a place of rest though it is
but an open field."

Ajeet turned upon the jamadar: "The one who is to be destroyed, say
you, Hunsa? Who spoke in council that the merchant was to be killed?
We are men of decoity, we rob these fat pirates who rob the poor, but
we take life only when it is necessary to save our own."

"And when a robbed one who has power, such as rich merchants have, make
complaint and give names, the powers take from us our profit and cast
us into jail," Hunsa retorted.