from the saddle in sheer weakness.  Then we halted in something like
a line, and a general rode up to shake hands with Ranjoor Singh and
to say things in our tongue that may not be repeated, for they were
words from heart to heart.  And I remember little more, for I, too,
swooned and fell from the saddle. 

The shadows darkened and grew one into another.  Hira Singh sat
drawing silently in the dust, with his injured feet stretched out in
front of him.  A monkey in the giant tree above us shook down a
little shower of twigs and dirt.  A trumpet blared.  There began much
business of closing tents and reducing the camp to superhuman
tidiness. 

"So, sahib," he said at last, "they come to carry me in.  It is time
my tale is ended.  Ranjoor Singh they have made bahadur.  God grant
him his desire! May my son be such a man as he, when his day comes. 

"Me! They say I shall be made commissioned officer--the law is
changed since this great war began.  Yet what did I do compared to
what Ranjoor Singh did? Each is his own witness and God alone is