ammunition for the rifles. I came back with
what I had, and distributed ’em among the
men that the Chiefs sent in to me to drill.
Dravot was too busy to attend to those
things, but the old Army that we first made
helped me, and we turned out five hundred
men that could drill, and two hundred that
knew how to hold arms pretty straight.
Even those cork-screwed, hand-made guns
was a miracle to them. Dravot talked big
about powder-shops and factories, walking
up and down in the pine wood when the
winter was coming on.

“‘I won’t make a Nation,’ says he. ‘I’ll
make an Empire! These men aren’t niggers;
they’re English! Look at their eyes—
look at their mouths. Look at the way they
stand up. They sit on chairs in their own
houses. They’re the Lost Tribes, or something
like it, and they’ve grown to be English.
I’ll take a census in the spring if the
priests don’t get frightened. There must be
a fair two million of ’em in these hills. The
villages are full o’ little children. Two million
people—two hundred and fifty thousand
fighting men—and all English! They only
want the rifles and a little drilling. Two
hundred and fifty thousand men, ready to
cut in on Russia’s right flank when she tries