vered at his daring, as
I saw Salaman come from behind my tent watching him, and following
closely as he saw the fakir making for where I was seated.

"He will be found out," I thought, but directly after it struck me that
Salaman was coming for my protection, and I sat watching the progress of
the scene.

Dost came on mumbling and shouting his wild song, thumping down his
staff and swaying his body from side to side while Salaman followed
close up now; but, in his character of fakir, Dost ignored his presence
entirely, and came on till he was not above a couple of yards from where
I sat. Here he stopped short, scowling at me fiercely for some time
before raising his staff and waving it in the air, as he burst forth
into a fierce tirade against the English usurpers of the land, and me in
particular, while I sat as if on my guard, but keeping a keener watch on
Salaman, whose face was a study, I could not catch a tenth of what Dost
said, far it was delivered in a peculiar way in a low, muttering tone
for a long sentence, whose last two or three words he shouted, bringing
down his staff with a bang, and then beginning again; but I found there
was a great deal of repetition and comparison of my relatives to pigs
and pariah dogs, and there were threats of what he would do, I think, to
my great-great-grandfather if ever he came into his hands.

But he did not come a step nearer, only grew fiercer in his final
utterances; and at last Salaman stepped forward, just as I was trying
hard to keep from laughing, and plucked the supposed fakir by the
garment.

Dost swung round and raised his staff threateningly, as if to strike,
but contented himself with waving my attendant away, and turned and went
on with his abuse.

"Let him be, Salaman," I said quietly. "I'm not afraid of the old
fellow. He will not hurt me."

"I do not think his curses will hurt, my lord," he replied, "but he
might strike."

"He had better not," I said sharply, in Hindustani, as if for the fakir
to hear. "If he does, holy man or no, I'll knock him over. I'm growing
stronger now."

Salaman came close behind me, and whispered, "No, no, my lord, don't
strike him; push him away, he is very old and mad; but he must not be
hurt."

At that moment Dost began in a very low voice and went on, with his
declamation growing louder, till it was a roar, when he suddenly ceased,
and dropped down on the ground with his legs under him in the position
of an Indi