hundred at a time to this valley to be drilled.
Nobody is going to be shot or speared any
more so long as he does well, and I know
that you won’t cheat me because you’re
white people—sons of Alexander—and not
like common, black Mohammedans. You are
my people and by God,’ says he, running
off into English at the end—‘I’ll make a
damned fine Nation of you, or I’ll die in the
making!’

“I can’t tell all we did for the next six
months because Dravot did a lot I couldn’t
see the hang of, and he learned their lingo
in a way I never could. My work was to
help the people plough, and now and again
to go out with some of the Army and see
what the other villages were doing, and
make ’em throw rope-bridges across the
ravines which cut up the country horrid.
Dravot was very kind to me, but when he
walked up and down in the pine wood pulling
that bloody red beard of his with both
fists I knew he was thinking plans I could
not advise him about, and I just waited for
orders.

“But Dravot never showed me disrespect
before the people. They were afraid of me
and the Army, but they loved Dan. He