we rank ourselves, is the position of white man _qua_ white man so high,
his status so impugnable, as in South East Africa. Differing in much
else, the race instinct binds the whites together to demand recognition
as a member of the ruling and inviolable caste, even for the poorest,
the degraded of their race. And this position connotes freedom from all
manual and menial toil; without hesitation the white man demands this
freedom, without question the black man accedes and takes up the burden,
obeying the race command of one who may be his personal inferior. It is
difficult to convey to one who has never known this distinction the way
in which the very atmosphere is charged with it in South East Africa. A
white oligarchy, every member of the race an aristocrat; a black
proletariat, every member of the race a server; the line of cleavage as
clear and deep as the colours. The less able and vigorous of our race,
thus protected, find here an ease, a comfort, a recognition to which
their personal worth would never entitle them in a homogeneous white
population.

When uncontaminated by contact with the lower forms of our civilization,
the native is courteous and polite. Even today, changed for the worse as
he is declared to be by most authorities, a European could ride or walk
alone, unarmed even with a switch, all through the locations of Natal
and Zululand, scores of miles away from the house of any white man, and
receive nothing but courteous deference from the natives. If he met, as
he certainly would, troops of young men, dressed in all their barbaric
finery, going to wedding or dance, armed with sticks and shields, full
of hot young blood, they would still stand out of the narrow path,
giving to the white man the right of way and saluting as he passed. I
have thus travelled alone all over South East Africa, among thousands of
blacks and never a white man near, and I cannot remember the natives,
even if met in scores or hundreds, ever disputing the way for a moment.
All over Africa, winding and zigzagging over hill and dale, over
grassland and through forest, from kraal to kraal, and tribe to tribe,
go the paths of the natives. In these narrow paths worn in the grass by
the feet of the passers, you could travel from Natal to Benguela and
back again to Mombasa. Only wide enough for one to travel thereon, if
opposite parties meet one must give way; cheerfully, courteously,
without cringing, often with respectful salute, d