"No man hired me, sahib, although one or two have tried. When I came
of age I sought acceptance in the army, and was chosen among many.
When my feet are healed I shall return to duty. I am a true Sikh. If
the sahib cares to listen, I will tell him truth that has not been
written in the papers."

So, having diagnosed my nationality and need, he proceeded to tell
me patiently things that many English are in the dark about, both
because of the censorship and because of the prevailing superstition
that the English resent being told--he stabbing and sweeping at the
dust with a broken twig and making little heaps and dents by way of
illustration,--I sitting silent, brushing away the flies.

Day after day I sought him soon after dawn when they were rolling up
the tent-flaps. I shared the curry and chapatties that a trooper
brought to him at noon, and I fetched water for him to drink from
time to time. It was dusk each day before I left him, so that, what
with his patience and my diligence, I have been able to set down the
story as he told it, nearly in his own words.

But of Risaldar-major Ranjoor Singh bahadur in the flesh, I have not
had another glimpse. I went in search of him the very first evening,
only to learn that he had "passed his medical" that afternoon and
had returned at once to active service.

* * * * * * *

We Sikhs have a proverb, sahib, that the ruler and the ruled are
one. That has many sides to it of which one is this: India having
many moods and minds, the British are versatile. Not altogether