It shall always be a satisfying memory that I raised my hat to him and that he saluted me.
"What is that officer's name ?" I asked, and the man on the ground seemed astonished that I did not know.
"Risaldar-major Ranjoor Singh bahadur!" he said.
For a second I was possessed by the notion of running after him, until I recalled that he had known my purpose from the first and that therefore his purpose must have been deliberate.

Obviously, I would better pursue the opportunity that in his own way He had given me.
"What is your name ?" I asked the man on the ground.
"Hira Singh," he answered, and at that I sat down beside him.

For I had also heard of Hira Singh.
He made quite a fuss at first because, he said, the dusty earth beneath a tree was no place for a sahib.

But suddenly he jumped to the conclusion I must be American, and ceased at once to be troubled about my dignity.

On the other hand, he grew perceptibly less distant.