July 20, 1916 
LAND & WATER 
2r 
always a featherbed to fall on. You can always turn traitor. 
Maritz now calls himself Robinson and has a pension from 
his friend Botha." 
" That," said Peter, " is a very damned lie." 
" I asked for information," said Stumm with a sudden 
politeness. " But that is all past and done with. Maritz 
matters no more than your old Cronjes and Krugers. The 
show is over, and you are looking for safety. For a new 
master perhaps ? But man, what can you bring ? What can 
you offer ? You and your Dutch are lying in the dust with 
ihe yoke on your necks. The Pretoria lawyers have talked 
30U round. You see that map," and he pointed to a big 
one on the wall. " South Africa is coloured green. Not 
red for the English, or yellow for the Germans. Some day 
it will be yellow, but for a little it will be green — the colour 
of neutrals, of nothings, of boys and young ladies and chicken- 
hearts." 
I kept wondering what he was playing at. 
Then he fixed his eyes on Peter. " What do you come here 
for ? The game's up in your own country. What can you 
offer us Germans ? If we gave you ten million marks and 
sent you back you could do nothing. Stir up a village row, 
perhaps, and shoot a policeman. South Africa is counted 
out in this war. Botha is a clever man and has beaten you 
calves' -heads of rebels. Can you deny it ? " 
Peter couldn't. He was terribly honest in some things 
and these were for certain his opinions. 
" No," he said, " that is true, b^as." 
" Then, what in God's name can you do ? " shouted 
Stumm. • 
Peter mumbled some foolishness about nobbling Angola 
for Germany and starting a revolution among the natives. 
Stumm flung up his arms and cursed, and the Under-Secre- 
tary laughed. 
It was high time for me to chip in. I was beginning to 
see the kind of fellow this Stumm was, and as he talked I 
thought of my mission, which had got overlaid by my Boer 
past. It looked as if he might be useful. 
" Let me speak," I said. " My friend is a great hunter, 
but he fights better than he talks. He is no poUtician. 
You speak truth. South Africa is a closed door for the 
present, and the k;v to it is elsewliere. Here in Europe, 
and in the East, and in other parts of Africa. We have come 
to help you to find the key." 
Stumm was hstening. " Go on, my little Boer. It will be 
a new thing to hear a taakhaar on world-pohtics." 
" You are fighting," I said, " in East Africa, and soon 
you may fight in Egypt. All the east coast north of the Zam- 
besi will be your battle ground. The English run about the 
world with Uttle expeditions. I do not know where the 
places are though I read of them in the papers. But I know 
my Africa. You want to beat them here in Europe and on 
tlie seas. Therefore, like wise Generals, you try to divide them 
and have them scattered throughout the globe while you stick 
at home. That is your plan .? " 
" A second Falkenhayn, " said Stumm laughing. 
" Well, England will not let East Africa go. She fears for 
Egypt and she fears too for India. If you press her there 
she will send armies and more armies till she is so weak in 
Europe that a child can crush her. That is England's 
Wcy. She cares more for her Empire than for what may 
happen to her Allies. So I say press and still press there, 
destroy the railway to the Lakes, burn her capital, hem up 
every Englishman in Mombasa island. At this moment it 
is worth for you a thousand Damaralands." 
The man was really interested and the Under-Secretary too 
pricked up his ears. 
" We can keep our territory," said the former, " but as 
for pressing, how the devil are we to press ? The accursed 
English hold the sea. We cannot ship men or guns there. 
South are the Portuguese and west the Belgians. You 
cannot move a mass without a lever." 
" The lever is there, ready for you," I said. 
" Then for God's sake show it me," he cried. 
I looked to the door to see that it was shut, as if what I 
had to say was very secret. 
" You need men, and the men are waiting. They are 
black, but they are the stuff of warriors. All round your 
borders you have the remains of great fighting tribes, the 
Angoni, the Masai, the Manyumwezi, and above all the 
Somalis of the north, and the dwellers on the upper Nile. 
The British recruit their black regiments there, and so do you. 
But to get recruits is not enough. You must set whole na- 
tions moving, as the Zulus under Tchaka flowed over South 
Africa." 
" It cannot be done," said the Under-Secretary. 
" It can be done," I said quietly. " We two are here to do 
it " 
This kind of talk was jolly difficult tor me, chiefly because of 
Stumm's asides in German to the official. I had above all 
things to get the credit of knowing no German, and, if ychi 
understand a language well, it is not very easy when you are 
interrupted not to show that you know it, either by a direct 
answer, or by referring to the interruption in what you say 
next. I had to be always on my guard, and yet it was up to 
me to be very persuasive and convince these fellows that I 
would be useful. Somehow or other 1 had to get into their 
confidence. 
" I have been for years up and down in Africa — Uganda 
and the Congo and the upper Nile. I know the ways of the 
Kaffir as no Englishman does. We Afrikanders see into the 
black man's heart, and though he may hate us he does our 
will. You Germans are like the English ; you are too big, 
folk to understand plain men. ' Civilise,' you cry. ' Edu- 
cate,' say the English. The black man obeys and puts, 
away his gods, but he worships them all the time in his soul. 
Wc must get his gods on our side and then he will move 
mountains. We must do as John Laputa did with Sheba's. 
necklace." 
" That's all in the air," said Stumm, but he did not laugh. 
" It is sober common sense," I said. " But you must 
begin at the right end. First find the race that fears its 
priests. It is waiting for 3'ou— the Mussulmans of Somaliland 
and the Abyssinian border and the Blue and White Nile. 
They would be like dried grasses to catch fire if you used 
the flint and steel of their religion. Look what the English 
suffered from a crazy Mullah who ruled only a dozen villages. 
Once get the flames going and they will lick up the Pagans to- 
the west and south. That is the way of Africa. How many 
thousands, think you, were in the Mahdi's army who never 
heard of the Prophet till they saw the black flags of the Emirs 
going into battle ? " 
Stumm was smiling. He turned his face to the official and 
spoke with his hand over his mouth, but I caught his words. 
They were " This is the man for Hilda." The other pursed 
his lips and looked a little scared. 
Stumm rang a bell and the lieutenant came in and clicked 
his heels. He nodded towards Peter. " Take this man 
away with you. We have done with him. The other fellow 
will follow presently." 
Peter went out with a puzzled face and Stumm turned to. 
me. 
" You are a dreamer, Brandt," he said. " But I do not 
reject you on that account. Dreams sometimes come true,, 
when an army follows the visionary. But who is going ta 
kindle the flame ? " 
" You," I said. 
" What the devil do you mean ? " he asked. 
" That is your part. You are the cleverest people in the 
world. You have already half the Mussulman lands in 
your power. It is for you to show us how to kindle a holy 
war, for clearly you have the secret of it Never fear but we 
will carry out your orders." 
" We have no secret," he said shortly, and glanced at the 
official, who stared out of the window. 
I dropped my jaw and looked the picture of disappointment. 
" I do not believe you," I said slowly. " You play a game 
with me. I have not come six thousand miles to be made a 
fool of." 
" Discipline, my God," Stumm cried. ".This is none of. 
your ragged commandos." In two strides he was above me 
and had fitted me out of my seat. His great hands clutched 
my shoulder, and his thumbs gouged my armpits. I felt as if 
I were in the grip of a big ape. Then very slowly he shook 
me so that my teeth seemed loosened and my head swam. 
He let me go and I dropped limply back in the chair. 
" Now go ! Futsack ! And remember that I am your 
master. I, Ulric von Stumm, who owns you as a Kaffir owns 
his mongrel. Germany may have some use for you, my friend , 
when you fear me as you never feared your God." 
As I walked dizzily away the big man was smiUng in his. 
horrible way, and that Uttle official was Winking and smiling 
too. I had struck a damned queer country, so queer that 1 
had had no time to remember that for the first time in my 
life I had been bullied without hitting back. When I realised 
it I nearly choked with anger. But I thanked heaven I had 
shown no temper, for I remembered my mission. Luck 
seemed to have brought me into useful company. 
{To be continued.) 
Battery Flashes, by " Wagger," (John Murray, 2s. 6d, net) 
is an account of the training of an artilleryman and his work 
with his battery on active service up to and beyond the 
" push " of September, 1915. The writer, as his pseudonym 
indicates, is a signaller, and by the time the end of tlie book 
is reached he is well on the way to a commission, which one 
judges he well deserves. There is a good deal of humnir in 
his account of training and service, and he is not afraid to 
relate a story that tells against himself. Though set in the 
form of letters, often a drawback, the story is never dull. 
