78 THE BONDS OF AFRICA 



fool to disappear into some unknown country 

 when he had such an excellent chance of getting 

 his " International " next year. They will be 

 mystified at his admissions that he did not " look 

 up S. who is stationed at Potchefstroom," or 



" run down to Cape Town to stay with the T s 



for a week." They will be still more amazed 

 when he tells them that he has never been to these 

 places because they are 2,000 miles away from 

 his Boma. 



Our guardians of the fringes of Greater Britain 

 are men who have that most relentless enemy 

 of the solitary to fight in many different forms 

 and directions. Monotony is that foe, and no 

 one can realize the sharpness of its weapons 

 until he has listened for w^eek after week to the 

 never-ceasing patter of the rain on the African 

 soil, and has not seen the face of one of his own 

 people for many dreary months. 



There is the demon of insanity lurking behind 

 the walls of every solitary steward's habitation. 

 The morphia fiend knocks at the door of isola- 

 tion, and lust, craving, the desire for anything 

 which will lighten the load of banishment, are 

 for ever saying, " We are no parts of your burden. 

 Put down the heavy weight of dignity and carry 

 us instead." 



Away in the storm-swept square the red and 

 the white and the blue, soaked and bedraggled, 

 are waving around in the wake of a scurrying 

 whirlwind. Perhaps the bearer of the white 

 man's burden will forget that the flag is still 

 an emblem of nation, although it seems to 

 have lost some of its sense of calm, unassailed 

 dignity. 



Perhaps he will lay that white man's burden 



