And now there were other war-ships--little ones, each of many funnels--low in the water, yet high at the nose--most swift, that guarded us on every hand, coming and going as the sharks do when they search the seas for food.
A wonder of a sight, sahib! Blue water--blue water--bluest ever I saw, who have seen lake water in the Hills! And all the ships belching black smoke, and throwing up pure white foam--and the last ship so far behind that only masts and smoke were visible above the sky-line--but more, we knew, behind that again, and yet more coming! I watched for hours at a stretch without weariness, and thought again of Ranjoor Singh.

Surely, thought I, his three campaigns entitled him to this.

Surely he was a better man than I.Yet here was I, and no man knew where he was.

But when I spoke of Ranjoor Singh men spat, so I said nothing.
After a time I begged leave to descend an iron ladder to the bowels of the ship, and I sat on the lowest rung watching the British firemen at the furnaces.

They cursed me in the name of God, their teeth and the whites of their eyes gleaming, but their skin black as night with coal dust.