I am a--trooper of the Gurgaon
Rissala (cavalry regiment), the One Hundred and Forty-first Punjab
Cavalry, Do not herd me with these black Kaffirs. I am a Sikh--a trooper
of the State. The Lieutenant-Sahib does not understand my talk? Is there
_any_ Sahib on the train who will interpret for a trooper of the Gurgaon
Rissala going about his business in this devil's devising of a country,
where there is no flour, no oil, no spice, no red pepper, and no respect
paid to a Sikh? Is there no help?... God be thanked, here is such a Sahib!
Protector of the Poor! Heaven-born! Tell the young Lieutenant-Sahib that
my name is Umr Singh; I am--I was servant to Kurban Sahib, now dead; and I
have a pass to go to Eshtellenbosch, where the horses are. Do not let him
herd me with these black Kaffirs!... Yes, I will sit by this truck till
the Heaven-born has explained the matter to the young Lieutenant-Sahib who
does not understand our tongue.
* * * * *
What orders? The young Lieutenant-Sahib will not detain me? Good! I go
down to Eshtellenbosch by the next _terain_? Good! I go with the Heaven-
born? Good! Then for this day I am the Heaven-born's servant. Will the
Heaven-born bring the honour of his presence to a seat? Here is an empty
truck; I will spread my blanket over one corner thus--for the sun is hot,
though not so hot as our Punjab in May. I will prop it up thus, and I will
arrange this hay thus, so the Presence can sit at ease till God sends us a
_terain_ for Eshtellenbosch.
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