of a regiment of Gurkhas. It was the inevitable Army again. It seems that the Second Division of the Northern Army camped north of Delhi last night, and was now marching past the city to the Tomb of Safdar Jang. On Tuesday active operations are to be resumed, and there are rumours of an impending battle. This time the Northern Army is to remain on the defensive, and the Southern Army is to do the attacking; but I hear that the First Division of the Northern Army has been transferred to the Southern force in consequence. When you first see a Gurkha regiment, you think that a bit of the Japanese Army must have strayed into India by mistake. The men look the splendid fighting material they are, and you can well imagine that they climb like cats on a mountain side. You are struck, too, by their really merry demeanour, which contrasts strangely with the gravity of the Sikh and the Rajput. "Jolly little chaps! I remember the times I had with 'em in Burma," murmurs your companion; and jolly little chaps they are. Nowadays the Gurkha on service wears a slouch hat looped up at one side, veldt fashion, and they have given him khaki "boating shorts" which leave the knee bare. I saw one man in the old-fashioned dress of the Gurkha with the pork-pie forage cap; the new uniform looks a great improvement. A British soldier, who had apparently got separated from his battalion, wandered past us. A Gurkha slipped out of the ranks, thrust an orange into his hand,
