a tone that was civil but firm, and strangely moving 

 from its quiet indifference. 



" Landela manzi, Umganaam ! r (" Bring water, 

 friend ! ") was all he said ; and each time the request 

 was so quickly answered that I had the guilty feeling 

 of being one in a great conspiracy of silence. The 



hush was unreal ; the stillness alive with racing 



thoughts ; the darkness full of watching eyes. 

 There is, we believe, in the heart of every being 



a little germ of justice which men call conscience ! 

 If that be so, there must have been in the heart of 

 the white man that night some uneasy movement 

 the first life-throb of the thought which one who had 

 not yet written has since set down : 



" Though I've belted you and flayed you, 

 By the living God that made you, 

 You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din ! " 



***** 



The following afternoon I received an ultimatum. 

 We had just returned from the town when from a 

 group of boys squatting round the fire there stood 

 up one big fellow a stranger who raised his hand 

 high above his head in Zulu fashion and gave their 

 salute in the deep bell-like voice that there was no 

 mistaking, " Inkos ! Bayete ! " 



He stepped forward, looking me all over, and 

 announced with calm and settled conviction, " I 

 have come to work for you ! " I said nothing. Then 

 he rapped a chest like a big drum, and nodding his 

 head with a sort of defiant confidence added in quaint 



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