"I have seen it before, Sahib. The drivers all know and they are becoming afraid. We know the treachery of this river very well. But the other bank is near high ground. If we crossed tonight we would be safe." Again he shifted his head deferentially. "Will you please tell the raja?"
To the drivers, Vasant Rao could only be a raja, a hereditary prince. All important Rajputs were automatically called rajas.
"Tell him yourself."
"We would rather you tell him, Captain Sahib. He is a high caste. It would not be right for us to tell a raja what to do."
Hawksworth watched for a moment as the Rajput guards began taking their place around the perimeter of the camp, and then he looked sadly at his waiting cot.
Damn. Crossing in the dark could be a needless risk. Why didn't the drivers say something while we still had light? God curse them and their castes.
Then with a shrug of resignation he rose and made his way to Vasant Rao's tent.
The Rajput leader had already removed his helmet, but after listening to Hawksworth he reluctantly strapped it back on and called for his second in command. Together they examined the clouds and then walked down to the river.
In the dark no one could tell if it had begun to rise. Vasant Rao ordered three Rajputs to ride across carrying torches, to test the depth and mark out a path. The river was wide, but it still was no more than a foot or two deep. When the third Rajput finally reached the far shore, over a hundred yards away, Vasant Rao issued orders to assemble the convoy.
The drivers moved quickly to harness their bullocks, which had been tethered to stakes near bundles of hay. The weary cattle tossed their heads and sniffed suspiciously at the moist air as they were whipped into harness. Meanwhile the Rajput guards began saddling their horses.