` Hark ! ' said the lama . ` One beats a drum -- far off ! ' At first the sound , carrying diluted through the still air , resembled the beating of an artery in the head . Soon a sharpness was added . ` Ah ! The music , ' Kim explained . He knew the sound of a regimental band , but it amazed the lama . At the far end of the plain a heavy , dusty column crawled in sight . Then the wind brought the tune : We crave your condescension To tell you what we know Of marching in the Mulligan Guards To Sligo Port below ! Here broke in the shrill-tongued fifes : We shouldered arms , We marched -- we marched away . From Phoenix Park We marched to Dublin Bay . The drums and the fifes , Oh , sweetly they did play , As we marched -- marched -- marched -- with the Mulligan Guards ! It was the band of the Mavericks playing the regiment to camp ; for the men were route-marching with their baggage . The rippling column swung into the level -- carts behind it divided left and right , ran about like an ant-hill , and ... ` But this is sorcery ! ' said the lama . The plain dotted itself with tents that seemed to rise , all spread , from the carts . Another rush of men invaded the grove , pitched a huge tent in silence , ran up yet eight or nine more by the side of it , unearthed cooking-pots , pans , and bundles , which were taken possession of by a crowd of native servants ; and behold the mango-tope turned into an orderly town as they watched ! ` Let us go , ' said the lama , sinking back afraid , as the fires twinkled and white officers with jingling swords stalked into the Mess-tent . ` Stand back in the shadow .
No one can see beyond the light of a fire , ' said XXXXX , his eyes still on the flag .
Bay Kim Park cooking-pots fifes first lama left mango-tope right