_repeating salute_). And a fighting man also.

OFFICER (_impersonally to horizon_). But they _all_ say that nowadays.

WARRIOR (_very loudly_). But there is a man in one of your battalions
who can testify to it. He is the grandson of my father's uncle.

OFFICER (_confidentially to his boots_). Hell is _quite_ full of such
grandsons of just such father's uncles; and how do I know if Private
So-and-So speaks the truth about his family? (_Makes to go._)

WARRIOR (_swiftly removing necessary garments_). Perhaps. But _these_
don't lie. Look! I got this ten, twelve years ago when I was quite a
lad, close to the old Border, Yes, Halfa. It was a true Snider bullet.
Feel it! This little one on the leg I got at the big fight that finished
it all last year. But I am not lame (_violent leg-exercise_), not in
the least lame. See! I run. I jump. I kick. Praised be Allah!

OFFICER. Praised be Allah! And then?

WARRIOR (_coquettishly_). Then, I shoot. I am not a common spear-man.
(_Lapse into English._) Yeh, dam goo' shot! (_pumps lever of imaginary
Martini_).

OFFICER (_unmoved_). I see. And then?

WARRIOR (_indignantly_). _I_ am come here--after many days' marching.
(_Change to childlike wheedle_.) Are _all_ the regiments full?

At this point the relative, in uniform, generally discovered himself,
and if the officer liked the cut of his jib, another 'old Mahdi's man'
would be added to the machine that made itself as it rolled along. They
dealt with situations in those days by the unclouded light of reason and
a certain high and holy audacity.

There is a tale of two Sheikhs shortly after the Reconstruction began.
One of them, Abdullah of the River, prudent and the son of a
slave-woman, professed loyalty to the English very early in the day, and
used that loyalty as a cloak to lift camels from another Sheikh, Farid
of the Desert, still at war with the English, but a perfect gentleman,
which Abdullah was not. Naturally, Farid raided back on Abdullah's kine,
Abdullah complained to the authorities, and the Border fermented. To
Farid in his desert camp with a clutch of Abdullah's cattle round him,
entered, alone and unarmed, the officer responsible for the peace of
those parts. After compliments, for they had had dealings with each
other before: 'You've been driving Abdullah's stock again,' said the
Englishman.

'I should think I had!' was the hot answer. 'He lifts my camels and
scuttles back into your territory, where he know