"I beg to represent," said old Benee Singh, my instructor in my athletic exercises, "that some of the praise is due to me for my good teaching. I always told you, Ismail Sahib, that the Sahib Zadah would be worthy of his father: may his riches increase, and may he live a thousand years! Yes, sir," said he to me, "often have I taught you that cut; you see you were running along, and cut over your left hand; it is few that can do that with any certainty, but you have caught the knack, and you want but a little practice to become as good a swordsman as myself. Perhaps, too," continued he to me, laughing, "the heart of your teacher may be made glad to-day; under such an auspicious commencement, the Sahib Zadah will remember the old Rajpoot." "That reminds me," said my father, "that I owe you a present; come to me this afternoon. Inshalla! we know how to be grateful for kindness, and it shall have its reward." And he received when he came a handsome gift. I must say, however, that under his tuition I had become highly expert at all manly exercises; I could use a gun, throw a spear, wrestle, knew the exact use of every description of sword, straight or crooked, single or double-edged, long or short, and in all these exercises there was not a lad of the village, and I may say of the country round, who could in any way compete with me. That night my father said to me, "Ameer, my son, to-morrow, you accompany me to Sheopoor. I need not tell you how to-day's exploit will raise you in the eyes of your future companions. Already have I despatched intelligence of our purposed departure to-morrow, and some account of to-day's affair, enough only to make them curious to see the hero of it; and I have mentioned no particulars, which will make them the more anxious to hear them from me. You have hitherto been looked on with some suspicion by many members of my band; and were it not for my rank of jemadar, I should have been obliged to explain my intentions in regard to you, long ago to them. I look therefore upon this event as particularly fortunate; as, knowing you are to be publicly brought amongst them, they will receive you with greater warmth and respect, as having given so undeniable a proof of your bravery, in the presence too of old soldiers, who have most of them seen many a tough fight." "It was God's will," said I; "else what power had a boy like I to do such a thing?" "You are now no child," replied my father; "you have this day, or I mistake you much, thrown off every lingering feeling of boyhood; the change has been sudden, but it has been complete, and it will last, or I mistake you much." "You do not," I replied, "I am not what I was; to-day is the first blood I have seen spilled; I feel that it will not be the last." CHAPTER IV.