waged over our dead bodies."

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

"Does the colonel sahib accept the situation?" one of the troopers
asked.

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

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

And all this while a great force gathered at our rear--gathered and