at large, of the glories of the manlier north--of the plains, where a
man might gallop while a horse could last, and of the mountains up
beyond the plains. He sniffed at the fetid Bombay reek, and spoke of
the clean air sweeping from the snow-topped Himalayas, that put life
and courage into the lungs of men who rode like centaurs! And the
other subalterns looked wistful, eying the bullock-carts that would
take their baggage by another route.

Fully the half of what Mahommed Gunga said was due to pride of race and
country. But the rest was all deliberately calculated to rouse the
wicked envy of those who listened. He meant to make the son of "Pukka"
Cunnigan feel, before he reached his heritage, that he was going up to
something worth his while. To quote his own north-country metaphor, he
meant to "make the colt come up the bit." He meant that "Chota"
Cunnigan should have a proper sense of his own importance, and should
chafe at restraint, to the end that when his chance did come to prove
himself he would jump at it. Envy, he calculated--the unrighteous
envy of men less fortunately placed--would make a good beginning.
And it did, though hardly in the way he calculated.

Young Cunningham, tight-lipped to keep himself from grinning like a
child, determined to prove himself worthy of the better fortune; and
Mahommed Gunga would have cursed into his black beard in disgust had he
known of the private resolutions being formed to obey orders to the
letter and obtain the good will of his seniors. The one thing that the
grim old Rajput wished for his protege was jealousy! He wanted him so
well hated by the "nabobs" who had grown crusty and incompetent in high
command that life for him in any northern garrison would be impossible.

Throughout the two months' journey to the north Mahommed Gunga never