_News!_ Bring out the heaps of grain—open the account-books again! Drive forward the well-bullocks against the taxable harvest! Eat and lie under the trees—pitch the police-guarded fair-grounds, O dancers! Hide away the rifles and let down the ladders from the watch-towers! _They_ beat (among all the peoples) _“Now—now—now! God has reserved the Sword for Nimrud! God has given Victory to Nimrud!” Let us abide under Nimrud_!” O Well-disposed and Heedful, an hundred thousand thousand! A SAHIBS’ WAR Pass? Pass? Pass? I have one pass already, allowing me to go by the _rêl_ from Kroonstadt to Eshtellenbosch, where the horses are, where I am to be paid off, and whence I return to India. I am a—trooper of the Gurgaon Rissala (cavalry regiment), the One Hundred and Forty-first Punjab Cavalry, Do not herd me with these black Kaffirs. I am a Sikh—a trooper of the State. The Lieutenant-Sahib does not understand my talk? Is there _any_ Sahib on the train who will interpret for a trooper of the Gurgaon Rissala going about his business in this devil’s devising of a country, where there is no flour, no oil, no spice, no red pepper, and no respect paid to a Sikh? Is there no help?… God be thanked, here is such a Sahib! Protector of the Poor! Heaven-born! Tell the young Lieutenant-Sahib that my name is Umr Singh; I am—I was servant to Kurban Sahib, now dead; and I have a pass to go to Eshtellenbosch, where the horses are. Do not let him herd me with these black Kaffirs!… Yes, I will sit by this truck till the Heaven-born has explained the matter to the young Lieutenant-Sahib who does not understand our tongue. What orders? The young Lieutenant-Sahib will not detain me? Good! I go down to Eshtellenbosch by the next _terain_? Good! I go with the Heaven-born? Good! Then for this day I am the Heaven-born’s servant. Will the Heaven-born bring the honour of his presence to a seat? Here is an empty truck; I will spread my blanket over one corner thus—for the sun is hot, though not so hot as our Punjab in May. I will prop it up thus, and I will arrange this hay thus, so the Presence can sit at ease till God sends us a _terain_ for Eshtellenbosch….