Only very old men were left, and but few of those; they and the women and children ran away at sight of us, except a very few who seemed careless from too much misery.

One such man had a horse, covered from head to foot with sores, that he offered to sell to Ranjoor Singh.

I did not overhear what price he asked, but I heard the men scoffing at such avarice as would rob the vultures.

He went away saying nothing, like a man in stupor, leaving the horse to die.

Nay, sahib, he had not understood the words.
We slept that first night in a village whose one street was a quagmire and a cesspool.