"The rash fellow!" exclaimed the commandant. "He had no right to push the pursuit so far with such a handful. I cannot spare Dorricot. Carry him gently; and you, Paterson, run and bring a doctor to the house." Right glad was Ted, and hardly less glad were the Gurkhas, when the doctor promised hope in spite of no fewer than four sword or bayonet wounds. "I have not an unwounded officer left, youngster!" exclaimed Major Reid dolefully. "Would you care to serve with me again?" "There's nothing I should like better, sir." And then the boy paused. "Except that I should be sorry to leave the Guides." "Well, go to Daly; he's better off for officers than I am, and ask if he'll transfer you for a few days." Ted obeyed. Permission was granted, and he again found himself with the Sirmuris. There were scenes in camp of a less tragic nature witnessed daily by our two ensigns from Aurungpore. The peculiar methods of fraternizing adopted by the British riflemen and the Asiatics of the Guide Corps and Sirmur Battalion provided plenty of amusement for the onlookers. The Gurkhas soon picked up a smattering of English, and a few began to speak the language fairly well, whilst on the other hand the English riflemen gave vent to their feelings in words which they imagined were Hindustani. "Good-morning!" the little men would say with a cheerful grin; and the riflemen, not to be outdone, would reply: "Ram Ram, Johnny Gurkha! Ram Ram!" Mixed groups would gather after any severe fighting to discuss the conflict and the conduct of the various regiments engaged, amid roars of laughter at the interpreter's attempts to translate the remarks. They were, indeed, the best of comrades; for brave men, of whatever race or creed, cannot but admire one another. One evening in early August, Ted and Alec, after a long visit to poor Dorricot, joined their good friend Jemadar Goria Thapa, who was sitting on the shady side of the house-fortress watching the men larking. He gave the new-comers a welcoming grin. "Good little man is Goria," whispered Ted. "We may as well sit by him. Those chaps are enjoying themselves, ain't they? Ram Ram, Jemadar Sahib!" Goria Thapa returned the greeting, and enquired after the health of his wounded officer and friend. "He's doing splendidly, thanks! He must be as strong as a horse and as fit as a--what's the native for fiddle, Alec?" "Dunno; call it a tom-tom. Are you having a good time, Jemadar Sahib, or do you wish you were back in Nepal?" Goria Thapa grinned broadly. "I like it," said he simply. "Hullo, Paterson!" broke in Claude Boldre, who had just strolled up. "How's your cousin, Russell? I came to ask after him." "Doing finely considering, thanks! Look at these chaps. They're as fond of horse-play as a lot of kids." It was certainly an amusing scene, and though the merest clowning, even this kind of fooling serves to keep men in good spirits and temper.