"Oh, he started, How did we know this n.i.g.g.e.r was a spy at all; it would be a terrible thing to kill him if we weren't quite sure; perhaps he was hiding there because he was wounded. And then he broke out that, after all, these n.i.g.g.e.rs were men fighting for their country; we would fight against the French if they came and took England from us; and the n.i.g.g.e.rs were brave men, 'please sir'--(every five minutes he'd pull his forelock, and say, 'please sir!')--'and if we have to fight against them we ought to remember they're fighting for freedom; we shouldn't shoot wounded prisoners when they were black if we wouldn't shoot them if they were white!' And then he broke out pure unmitigated Exeter Hall! You never heard anything like it! All men were brothers, and G.o.d loved a black man as well as a white; Mashonas and Matabele were poor ignorant folk, and we had to take care of them. And then he started out, that we ought to let this man go; we ought to give him food for the road, and tell him to go back to his people, and tell them we hadn't come to take their land but to teach them and love them. 'It's hard to love a n.i.g.g.e.r, Captain, but we must try it; we must try it!'--And every five minutes he'd break out with, 'And I think this is a man I know, Captain; I'm not sure, but I think he comes from up Lo Magundis way!'--as if any born devil cared whether a b.l.o.o.d.y n.i.g.g.e.r came from Lo Magundis or anywhere else! I'm sure he said it fifteen times. And then he broke out, 'I don't mean that I'm better than you or anybody else, Captain; I'm as bad a man as any in camp, and I know it.' And off he started, telling us all the sins he'd ever committed; and he kept on, 'I'm an unlearned, ignorant man, Captain; but I must stand by this n.i.g.g.e.r; he's got no one else!'

And then he says--'If you let me take him up to Lo Magundis, sir, I'm not afraid; and I'll tell the people there that it's not their land and their women that we want, it's them to be our brothers and love us. If you'll only let me go, sir, I'll go and make peace; give the man to me, sir!'" The Colonial shook with laughter.

"What did the Captain say?" asked the Englishman.

"The Captain; well, you know the smallest thing sets him off swearing all round the world; but he just stood there with his arms hanging down at each side of him, and his eyes staring, and his face getting redder and redder: and all he could say was, 'My Gawd! my Gawd!' I thought he'd burst. And Halket stood there looking straight in front of him, as though he didn't see a soul of us all there."

"What did the Captain do?"

"Oh, as soon as Halket turned away he started swearing, but he got the tail of one oath hooked on to the head of another. It was nearly as good as Halket himself. And when he'd finished and got sane a bit, he said Halket was to walk up and down there all day and keep watch on the n.i.g.g.e.r. And he gave orders that if the big troop didn't come up tonight, that he was to be potted first thing in the morning, and that Halket was to shoot him."

The Englishman started: "What did Halket say?"

"Nothing. He's been walking there with his gun all day."

The Englishman watched with his clear eyes the spot where Halket's head appeared and disappeared.

"Is the n.i.g.g.e.r hanging there now?"

"Yes. The Captain said no one was to go near him, or give him anything to eat or drink all day: but--" The Colonial glanced round where the trooper lay under the bushes; and then lowering his voice added, "This morning, a couple of hours ago, Halket sent the Captain's coloured boy to ask me for a drink of water. I thought it was for Halket himself, and the poor devil must be hot walking there in the sun, so I sent him the water out of my canvas bag. I went along afterwards to see what had become of my mug; the boy had gone, and there, straight in front of the Captain's tent, before the very door, was Halket letting that b.l.o.o.d.y n.i.g.g.e.r drink out of my mug. The riem was so tight round his neck he couldn't drink but slowly, and there was Halket holding it up to him! If the Captain had looked out! W-h-e-w! I wouldn't have been Halket!"

"Do you think he will try to make Halket do it?" asked the Englishman.

"Of course he will. He's the Devil in; and Halket had better not make a fuss about it, or it'll be the worse for him."

"His time's up tomorrow evening!"

"Yes, but not tomorrow morning. And I wouldn't make a row about it if I was Halket. It doesn't do to fall out with the authorities here. What's one n.i.g.g.e.r more or less? He'll get shot some other way, or die of hunger, if we don't do it."

"It's hardly sport to shoot a man tied up neck and legs," said the Englishman; his finely drawn eyebrows contracting and expanding a little.

"Oh, they don't feel, these n.i.g.g.e.rs, not as we should, you know. I've seen a man going to be shot, looking full at the guns, and falling like that!--without a sound. They've no feeling, these n.i.g.g.e.rs; I don't suppose they care much whether they live or die, not as we should, you know."

The Englishman's eyes were still fixed on the bushes, behind which Halket's head appeared and disappeared.

"They have no right to order Halket to do it--and he will not do it!"

said the Englishman slowly.

"You're not going to be such a fool as to step in, are you?" said the Colonial, looking curiously at him. "It doesn't pay. I've made up my mind never to speak whatever happens. What's the good? Suppose one were to make a complaint now about this affair with Halket, if he's made to shoot the n.i.g.g.e.r against his will; what would come of it? There'd be half-a-dozen fellows here squared to say what headquarters wanted--not to speak of a fellow like that"--turning his thumb in the direction of the sleeping trooper--"who are paid to watch. I believe he reports on the Captain himself to the big headquarters. All one's wires are edited before they go down; only what the Company wants to go, go through.

There are many downright good fellows in this lot; but how many of us are there, do you think, who could throw away all chance of ever making anything in Mashonaland, for the sake of standing by Halket; even if he had a real row with the Company? I've a great liking for Halket myself, he's a real good fellow, and he's done me many a good turn--took my watch only last night, because I was off colour; I'd do anything for him in reason. But, I say this flatly, I couldn't and wouldn't fly in the face of the authorities for him or anyone else. I've my own girl waiting for me down in the Colony, and she's been waiting for me these five years. And whether I'm able to marry her or not depends on how I stand with the Company: and I say, flatly, I'm not going to fall out with it.

I came here to make money, and I mean to make it! If other people like to run their heads against stone walls, let them: but they mustn't expect me to follow them. This isn't a country where a man can say what he thinks."

The Englishman rested his elbows on the ground. "And the Union Jack is supposed to be flying over us."

"Yes, with a black bar across it for the Company," laughed the Colonial.

"Do you ever have the nightmare?" asked the Englishman suddenly.

"I? Oh yes, sometimes"; he looked curiously at his companion; "when I've eaten too much, I get it."

"I always have it since I came up here," said the Englishman. "It is that a vast world is resting on me--a whole globe: and I am a midge beneath it. I try to raise it, and I cannot. So I lie still under it--and let it crush me!"

"It's curious you should have the nightmare so up here," said the Colonial; "one gets so little to eat."

There was a silence: he was picking the little fine feathers from the bird, and the Englishman was watching the ants.

"Mind you," the Colonial said at last, "I don't say that in this case the Captain was to blame; Halket made an awful a.s.s of himself. He's never been quite right since that time he got lost and spent the night out on the kopje. When we found him in the morning he was in a kind of dead sleep; we couldn't wake him; yet it wasn't cold enough for him to have been frozen. He's never been the same man since; queer, you know; giving his rations away to the coloured boys, and letting the other fellows have his dot of brandy at night; and keeping himself sort of apart to himself, you know. The other fellows think he's got a touch of fever on, caught wandering about in the long gra.s.s that day. But I don't think it's that; I think it's being alone in the veld that's got hold of him. Man, have you ever been out like that, alone in the veld, night and day, and not a soul to speak to? I have; and I tell you, if I'd been left there three days longer I'd have gone mad or turned religious. Man, it's the nights, with the stars up above you, and the dead still all around. And you think, and think, and think! You remember all kinds of things you've never thought of for years and years. I used to talk to myself at last, and make believe it was another man. I was out seven days: and he was only out one night. But I think it's the loneliness that got hold of him. Man, those stars are awful; and that stillness that comes toward morning!" He stood up. "It's a great pity, because he's as good a fellow as ever was. But perhaps he'll come all right."

He walked away towards the pot with the bird in his hand. When he had gone the Englishman turned round on to his back, and lay with his arm across his forehead.

High, high up, between the straggling branches of the tree, in the clear, blue African sky above him, he could see the vultures flying southward.

That evening the men sat eating their suppers round the fires. The large troop had not come up; and the mules had been brought in; and they were to make a start early the next morning.

Halket was released from his duty, and had come up, and lain down a little in the background of the group who gathered round their fire.

The Colonial and the Englishman had given orders to all the men of their mess that Halket was to be left in quiet, and no questions were to be asked him; and the men, fearing the Colonial's size and the Englishman's nerve, left him in peace. The men laughed and chatted round the fire, while the big Colonial ladled out the mealies and rice into tin plates, and pa.s.sed them round to the men. Presently he pa.s.sed one to Halket, who lay half behind him leaning on his elbow. For a while Halket ate nothing, then he took a few mouthfuls; and again lay on his elbow.

"You are eating nothing, Halket," said the Englishman, cheerily, looking back.

"I am not hungry now," he said. After a while he took out his red handkerchief, and emptied carefully into it the contents of the plate; and tied it up into a bundle. He set it beside him on the ground, and again lay on his elbow.

"You won't come nearer to the fire, Halket?' asked the Englishman.

"No, thank you, the night is warm."

After a while Peter Halket took out from his belt a small hunting knife with a rough wooden handle. A small flat stone lay near him, and he pa.s.sed the blade slowly up and down on it, now and then taking it up, and feeling the edge with his finger. After a while he put it back in his belt, and rose slowly, taking up his small bundle and walked away to the tent.

"He's had a pretty stiff day," said the Colonial. "I expect he's glad enough to turn in."

Then all the men round the fire chatted freely over his concerns. Would the Captain stick to his word tomorrow? Was Halket going to do it?

Had the Captain any right to tell one man off for the work, instead of letting them fire a volley? One man said he would do it gladly in Halket's place, if told off; why had he made such a fool of himself? So they chatted till nine o'clock, when the Englishman and Colonial left to turn in. They found Halket asleep, close to the side of the tent, with his face turned to the canvas. And they lay down quietly that they might not disturb him.

At ten o'clock all the camp was asleep, excepting the two men told off to keep guard; who paced from one end of the camp to the other to keep themselves awake; or stood chatting by the large fire, which still burnt at one end.

In the Captain's tent a light was kept burning all night, which shone through the thin canvas sides, and shed light on the ground about; but, for the rest, the camp was dead and still.

By half-past one the moon had gone down, and there was left only a blaze of stars in the great African sky.

Then Peter Halket rose up; softly he lifted the canvas and crept out.

On the side furthest from the camp he stood upright. On his arm was tied his red handkerchief with its contents. For a moment he glanced up at the galaxy of stars over him; then he stepped into the long gra.s.s, and made his way in a direction opposite to that in which the camp lay. But after a short while he turned, and made his way down into the river bed.

He walked in it for a while. Then after a time he sat down upon the bank and took off his heavy boots and threw them into the gra.s.s at the side.

Then softly, on tip-toe, he followed the little footpath that the men had trodden going down to the river for water. It led straight up to the Captain's tent, and the little flat-topped tree, with its white stem, and its two gnarled branches spread out on either side. When he was within forty paces of it, he paused. Far over the other side of the camp the two men who were on guard stood chatting by the fire. A dead stillness was over the rest of the camp. The light through the walls of the Captain's tent made all clear at the stem of the little tree; but there was no sound of movement within.

For a moment Peter Halket stood motionless; then he walked up to the tree. The black man hung against the white stem, so closely bound to it that they seemed one. His hands were tied to his sides, and his head drooped on his breast. His eyes were closed; and his limbs, which had once been those of a powerful man, had fallen away, making the joints stand out. The wool on his head was wild and thick with neglect, and stood out roughly in long strands; and his skin was rough with want and exposure.

The riems had cut a little into his ankles; and a small flow of blood had made the ground below his feet dark.