Now that both Turks and Syrians had grown used to being prisoners and to obeying us, they were less likely to think independently—­in the same way that a new-caught elephant in the keddah is frenzied and dangerous, but after a week or two is learning tricks.

And as for choosing the night-time for the change, every soldier knows that the darkness is on the side of him whose plans are laid.  He who is taken unawares must then contend with both ignorance and darkness.  Thieves prefer the dark.  Wolves hunt in the dark.  Fishermen fish in the dark.  And the wise commander who would change his dispositions makes use of darkness, too.  Men who might disobey by daylight are like lambs when they can not see beyond the light a camp-fire throws.

But such things are mental, sahib, and not to be explained like the fire of heavy guns or the shock tactics of cavalry—­although not one atom less effective.  If Ranjoor Singh had lined up the men and argued with them, there might have been mutiny.  Instead, when he judged the second ripe, he made sudden new dispositions in the night and gave them something else to think about without suggesting to their minds that he might be worried about them or suspicious of them.  On the contrary, he took opportunity to praise some individuals and distribute merited rewards.

For instance, he promoted the two naiks, Surath Singh and Mirath Singh, to be daffadars on probation, to their very great surprise and absolute contentment.  The four who guarded Tugendheim he raised to the rank of naik, bidding them help Tugendheim drill the Syrians without relaxing vigilance over him.  Then he chose six more troopers to be naiks.  And of the eighty mounted men he degraded eighteen to march on foot again, replacing them with more obedient ones.  Then at last I understood why he had chosen some grumblers to ride in the first instance—­simply in order that he might make room for promotion of others at the proper time, offsetting discontent with emulation.

Then of the eighty mounted men he picked the forty best.  He gave Abraham’s saddle to Gooja Singh, set one of the new naiks over the left wing, and Gooja Singh over the right wing of the forty, under himself, and ordered rations for three days to be cooked and served out to the forty, including corn for their horses.  They had to carry it all in the knap-sacks on their own backs, since no one of them yet had saddles.

Gooja Singh eyed me by firelight while this was going on, with his tongue in his cheek, as much as to say I had been superseded and would know it soon.  When I affected not to notice he said aloud in my hearing that men who sat on both sides of a fence were never on the right side when the doings happen.  And when I took no notice of that he asked me in a very loud voice whether my heart quailed at the prospect of being left a mile or two behind.  But I let him have his say.  Neither he, nor any of the men, had the slightest idea yet of Ranjoor Singh’s real plan.