"Who told you that?" Nayka smiled at Hawksworth's naivete. "I would guess a Rajput. They always deny it to strangers, so you won't form unfavorable ideas about the high castes. Let me tell you that it is a lie, Captain Sahib. They take our women all the time, and there is nothing we can say. But a low-caste man with a high-caste woman is another matter." "But what about their 'ritual pollution'? They're not supposed to touch the low castes." "It's very simple. A Rajput can take one of our women if he chooses, and then just take a bath afterward and he is clean again." "But can't a high-caste woman do the same, if she's been with a low- caste man?" "No, Captain Sahib. Because they say her pollution is internal. She has the polluting emissions of the low-caste man within her. So there is no way she can be purified. It's the way the high castes control their women. But if you're a man, you can have any woman you please, and there's nothing anyone can say." Again Nayka's eyes brightened. "It will be wonderful the day I am reborn. Caste is a wonderful thing." Hawksworth studied the half-starved, almost toothless man who stood before him barefoot, grinning happily. Well, enjoy your dreams, you poor miserable son-of-a- bitch. I'll not be the one to tell you this life is all you get. He took a slug of brandy and returned to his dung-flavored lentils. Taken with some of the charcoal-flavored bread they were actually better than he'd expected. Vasant Rao had already summoned the Rajputs and made assignments for the evening guard duty. Guards were to be doubled. Hawksworth remained astounded by the Rajput concept of security. A large kettledrum was set up at the head of the camp and continually beaten from dusk to dawn. A detail of Rajputs would march around the perimeter of the camp throughout the night, and on the quarter hour a shout of "khabardar," meaning "take heed," would circle the camp. The first night Hawksworth had found it impossible to sleep for the noise, but the second night and thereafter his weariness overtook him. He poured himself another brandy and watched as Nayka scrubbed out the cooking pans with ashes and sand. Then the driver rolled a betel leaf for Hawksworth and another for himself and set to work erecting the tent, which was nothing more than four poles with a canopy. After this he unloaded Hawksworth's cot, a foot-high wooden frame strung with hemp. None of the Rajputs used cots; they preferred a thin pallet on the ground.