Many years afterwards Lord William Beresford, when Military Secretary to the Viceroy, was fond of telling a story not only illustrative of the personal equation which would cause one of the rough and ready old soldiers to refuse obedience to any but his own officers, but also giving a somewhat embarrassing illustration of a sentry adhering too literally to his orders.  Lord William was somewhat annoyed at the time; but when cooler, he saw the sound military spirit underlying the incident, and hence always mentioned it with commendation.

It appears that as the Guides’ cavalry were marching in to Rawul Pindi for a concentration of troops, just before they reached their camping-ground they passed a pond by the roadside.  The officer commanding turning round, called one of the men to him and said:  “Go, stand sentry on that pond, and don’t let anyone water there, till we have watered our horses.”

“Very good, your Honour,” replied the trooper, and went and posted himself.

What the commanding officer really meant was, not to allow cattle and transport animals to dirty the water before the horses came down to drink; but he did not express himself very clearly.

Shortly after the sentry had taken up his beat a string of horses, headed by a gorgeous being in a scarlet uniform, appeared, making for the pond.

“Hullo! you there, where are you going?” shouted the sentry.

“Going?” repeated the gorgeous being, superciliously.  “Why, to water my horses, you stupid fool.”

“No you don’t,” said the sentry; “no one waters here till the Guides have finished with it.”

The gorgeous person nearly fell off his horse with astonishment, and when he found speech he replied:  “Cease prattling, son of an impure mother!  These are the Great Lord’s horses, and can of course water where and when they choose.”

“I don’t care a quarter of an anna whose horses they are, but they don’t water here.  So, out of this, you mis-begotten son of a red-coated ape, or I’ll give you something to help you along.”  And the sentry quietly pulled out a cartridge, and began leisurely fitting it into the breech of his carbine.

This was not at all to the red-coated gentleman’s liking.  To trot behind his Lord, richly caparisoned and splendidly mounted, was one thing; but to meet an infernal fellow who deliberately fitted a cartridge into his carbine to defend his post, was a matter not lightly to be undertaken.  Accordingly he galloped off to fetch his native officer.  When this officer arrived he was much enraged, and roundly abused the sentry, calling him every name under the sun, and casting the gravest reflections on the whole of his ancestors, especially on the female side.

But the sentry stood like a block of wood, and when the other had finished answered:  “I don’t know who you are, and don’t care; and for the present you may talk as much as you like, though when I am at liberty I also shall have a few words to say.  But I am sentry here on this pond, and my orders are such and such, and I mean to obey them.  The first man who tries to force me I hit with a bullet.”