he German war-ships. They must have been ignorant
of the fact that we received our mail from India regularly. I have
noticed this about the Germans: they are unable to convince
themselves that any other people can appreciate the same things they
appreciate, think as swiftly as they, or despise the terrors they
despise. That is one reason why they must lose this war. But there
are others also.

One afternoon, when I was pretending to doze in a niche near the
entrance to Colonel Kirby's funk-hole, I became possessed of the key
to it all; for Colonel Kirby's voice was raised more than once in
anger. I understood at last how Ranjoor Singh had orders to deceive
the Germans as to our state of mind. He was to make them believe we
were growing mutinous and that the leaven only needed time in which
to work; this of course for the purpose of throwing them off their
guard.

My heart stopped beating while I listened, for what man hears his
honor smirched without wincing? Even so I think I would have held my
tongue, only that Gooja Singh, who dozed in a niche on the other
side of the funk-hole entrance, heard the same as I.

Said Gooja Singh that evening to the troopers round about: "They
chose well," said he. "They picked a brave man--a clever man, for a
desperate venture!" And when the troopers asked what that might
mean, he asked how many of them in the Punjab had seen a goat tied
to a stake to lure a panther. The suggestion made them think. Then,
pretending to praise him, letting fall no word that could be thrown
back in his teeth, he condemned Ranjoor Singh for a worse traitor
than any had yet believed him. Gooja Singh was a man with a certain
subtlety. A man with two tongues, very dangerous.

"Ranjoor Singh is brave," said he, "for he is not afraid to
sacrifice us all. Many officers are afraid to lose too many men in
the gaining of an end, but not so he. He is clever, for who else
would have thought of making us seem despicable to the Germans in
order to tempt them to attack in force at this point? Have ye not
noticed how to our rear all is being made ready for the defense and
for a counter-attack to follow? We are the bait. The battle is to be
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'