Wishing to chase these dreadful pictures from his mind, and as if to deceive himself, he continued: “There is a rumour that we shall be sent to France towards La Bassée. There we shall not see the negroes, but more likely the English.” “I hope so for your sake,” said the youngest prisoner; “though, according to all accounts, La Bassée is a bad corner for you, if you remember the losses you had there six months ago. The English are splendid shots, so I will give you a piece of advice as a friend, don’t let them see the top of your head above the parapet.” “But, I say,” interrupted the elder Frenchman, “what about the Hindoos?” “What does he say?” asked the sentinel. “Ah, it is true! How unlucky you are.” (The “Hindoos” was immediately translated to him.) “You don’t know that the English have recruited a formidable army in India? And the Hindoos are much more to be feared than our peaceful Moroccans. Indeed, with them it is never safe to shut your eyes through the night or the day either. Their cunning, their agility, their suppleness is something extraordinary, and they manage to get into your lines without being seen or heard. Do you know how they proceed? They undress completely and rub their whole body carefully with oil, then, taking a long cutlass between their teeth, they creep over the ground. Not a tuft of grass trembles, not a sound betrays their approach, they are on you and strangle you before you have an idea of their presence. They are marvellous soldiers. They have been seen to take hundreds of metres of trenches and massacre all the inhabitants without a cry being heard.” “It is horrible,” groaned the sentinel; “one ought not to send savages to Europe.” “Bah, some Europeans are not worth more than they. The hand-to-hand fight amongst savages is frequent.” Then, to rub things in, one of the prisoners repeats: “You understand; they arrive naked; the oil permits them to creep without being heard, and as they also take the precaution of rubbing their bodies with earth, they cannot be distinguished from the yellowish stretch over which they glide. And to think they have disembarked twelve million at Marseilles.” “What! What do you say?” “I said twelve million,” answered the Frenchman phlegmatically and with assurance. “It is official. Don’t you read your papers? It was written in capital letters in the _Cologne Gazette_ a few days ago. They have been drilled in India, and last winter in Egypt; they will come to France and stay till the beginning of the cold weather. There are twelve million. You know that Marseilles is universally noted for its soap, and that there are very important factories there. Well, the Hindoos are there, and are already anointing their bodies with the soap of Marseilles. They will soon be ready, and will probably arrive at the front at the same time as you. I wish you joy.”