Ahmed congratulated him warmly on his promotion. Then he asked what the Guides had been doing during his absence, and heard of almost daily encounters with the enemy. He learnt also that Hodson Sahib was no longer in command of the corps. He had raised a new body of horsemen, of whom the Guides were somewhat jealous.
"There goes one of them," cried Sherdil, pointing to a tall figure in khaki, with a scarlet sash over the shoulder and a huge scarlet turban. "We call them flamingoes, for they are very like. Thou shouldst see them on horseback, some of them who have ridden little; it is a sight to make you crack your sides."
"And who is now our commander, then?"
"Shebbeare Sahib, a good man: has he not been twice wounded? But it seems as though our commanders change with the moon, so short a time do they abide with us."
And then he told of what men had been killed, and what wounded. He himself had been incapacitated for a week through a sabre cut. Ahmed asked if any new men had joined the corps.
"None, though there was a man of good promise who came with us into that fight I told you of towards Alipur; a silent man, with a noble beard. Some of us thought he was a candidate; some, a sahib—thou knowest how the sahibs love strange adventures; but I have never looked upon him since."
"Of what sort was he, Sherdil?"
"A straight man, with a grave face, and a good seat on horseback."
"Was he anything like me?"
"Hai! Thou art a stripling: he was a man, I say. Maybe if thou live long enough thou wilt have a beard like his. Truly thou wouldst have rejoiced to see him that day. Did he not smite, Rasul? Did he not cleave his way through the Purbiyas with clean thrust and stroke? I would fain look on him again."