One day the colonel read a letter he had received from old Mullins
inquiring if Nipper was still alive and reminding us that his meat had
always been cooked for him. It almost made one believe in
reincarnation, for it was really uncanny, as no human being could more
contritely express remorse than did Nipper as he listened with tail
between his legs, whining most piteously.

He accompanied me on some scouting expeditions in the desert, but his
powers were failing, and I never trusted him after one occasion on
which he made a fool of me. He showed all the symptoms of danger being
near; and sure enough on looking through my glasses I saw what appeared
to be a man with a rifle crouched behind a bush. I took three men with
me and we made a long detour to approach from behind, but after all our
precautions and alarm we found nothing but a long stick leaning against
the bush and the shadow of a rock that looked something like a man.

In the end Nipper committed suicide, and this was the manner of his
going. He was in the habit of swimming across the canal every morning
while we were at Ferry Post. This morning, however, one of the boys
noticed him go under, and diving in after him was able, after some
difficulty, to get his body ashore. He was quite stiff and we all of
us believed that he swam out a certain distance and gave up.

His bearing for days indicated that something was preying on his mind,
and as we did not know what cloud overshadowed his canine soul we
forbore to judge him.

His memory will remain for long in the hearts of those who knew him,
and we buried him in the burning sand of Arabia with the simple