Well, that was that; he didn't, of course, dare to tell his dream, and was soundly rated for being such a fool as to sleep where he did. He knew nothing of Etheric travel, but was greatly puzzled that the men in his dream, including the bugler, had been Dogras and not the Sikhs he was in charge of, and that the call he had heard, which had saved his life, was one of which he knew nothing. Some months later, convalescing from malignant malaria and dysentery, and having been transferred to the Dogra regiment to which he had originally been gazetted, he was looking through the Regimental History and Standing Orders sent him by the Adjutant, and was astounded to find that the regimental call was that same rhythmic sequence of eight high Gs which had been sounded by his "dream" bugler. That set him digging into the Regimental History, and at last he discovered that a company of his regiment had occupied that very fort in 1869, and he gives this extract from the History: "The ensuing night was marked by an incident terminating in the death of No. 3373, Bugler Ishar Ram. Shortly after two o'clock in the morning, the sleeping garrison was awakened by the sound of Ishar Rain's bugle, followed almost immediately by a shot from the roof of the newly erected Rest-house which struck the unfortunate bugler in the head, killing him instantly. It is a melancholy satisfaction that the marksman was shot dead by a sentry whilst endeavouring to beat a retreat." We are not asked to accept the authenticity of the story, but its lapses from the expected and explicable have the right psychic ring.