The Gurkha is more closely a brother-in-arms to Tommy Atkins than is any other native soldier. These brave little men swell with pride--and their chest expansion is enormous--when they are referred to as the "Highlanders of India." Their eyes twinkle and their white teeth gleam in a smile of joy at this well-deserved honour bestowed upon them for many a valiant fight. To stand by the side of their big brothers of the Black Watch, the Seaforth, the Gordon, the Cameron, and the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders in glory and renown is their Nirvana of bliss; and now, in the greatest conflict of Europe, to fight, and if need be to die, in the same line with them for the great King-Emperor (the Padisha), in the defence of the world against tyranny and wrong, is absolutely the crowning moment in the history of this valiant little man of Nepal. As the Gurkha marches to-day to the tune of The Marseillaise, played on a weird collection of instruments approaching as nearly as possible to the bagpipes, his cheerful spirit is glad beyond words to be in line with the heroes who claim his special admiration, and his one thought is "Shall we fight side by side with the Gordons, as we did at Dargai, or with the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, or with the Seaforths?" But behind his cheerful countenance and jaunty way of carrying himself lies a bulldog courage which, in turn, commands the admiration of his big brothers-in-arms--the British Highlanders. Those gleaming teeth are exposed in no kind of smile when he grips the deadly _kukri_ in a hand-to-hand encounter, and there is no twinkle in the fierce black eyes as he sets his face to the foe, with the cool determination "never to go back," which is a tradition of his race. On this point, Lt.-Col. Newnham-Davis, writing in "Town Topics," declares that "The Gurkha is the most thorough little man I have ever met in campaigning; he will never go back. He tackles any job that is given him like a bulldog, and he is never beaten. In manoeuvres, as in action, one thing a Gurkha regiment will not do is to go back. "I have seen the Chief Umpire and all his satellites vainly trying to explain to the native officers of a Gurkha company on manoeuvres that they were surrounded and outnumbered and out of action, and that they must therefore retire from the mimic fight. The Gurkhas grinned and stopped where they were, and it was only by sounding the 'cease fire' and telling the little men to get back and cook their dinners that the Chief Umpire moved them off the ground." "In the spring," says the Colonel, writing on the Gurkha War, "the little Gurkhas--jovial little fellows, broad-chested and big-limbed, short in stature, with their Tartar eyes, noses like pugdogs, and great good-natured gashes for mouths--flock down to enlist in our regiments. Brave as lions, vain as peacocks, faithful as dogs, with few prejudices in peace and none in war, the Gurkhas are the special friends and companions of our men.