“It is very lucky for us that we haven’t all got to fight in the same way,” said the troop-horse.

“What I want to know,” said the young mule, who had been quiet for a long time⁠—“what I want to know is, why we have to fight at all.”

“Because we are told to,” said the troop-horse, with a snort of contempt.

“Orders,” said Billy the mule; and his teeth snapped.

“ Hukm hai! ” (It is an order), said the camel with a gurgle; and Two Tails and the bullocks repeated, “ Hukm hai! ”

“Yes, but who gives the orders?” said the recruit-mule.

“The man who walks at your head⁠—Or sits on your back⁠—Or holds the nose-rope⁠—Or twists your tail,” said Billy and the troop-horse and the camel and the bullocks one after the other.

“But who gives them the orders?”

“Now you want to know too much, young ’un,” said Billy, “and that is one way of getting kicked. All you have to do is to obey the man at your head and ask no questions.”

“He’s quite right,” said Two Tails. “I can’t always obey, because I’m betwixt and between; but Billy’s right. Obey the man next to you who gives the order, or you’ll stop all the battery, besides getting a thrashing.”

The gun-bullocks got up to go. “Morning is coming,” they said. “We will go back to our lines. It is true that we see only out of our eyes, and we are not very clever; but still, we are the only people tonight who have not been afraid. Good night, you brave people.”

Nobody answered, and the troop-horse said, to change the conversation, “Where’s that little dog? A dog means a man somewhere near.”