Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland Part 4

"And when the service was ended and the man returned to his home, his wife came to him weeping; and she said, 'Did you see how some of the most wealthy and important people got up and went out this morning? Why did you preach such a sermon, when we were just going to have the new wing added to our house, and you thought they were going to raise your salary? You have not a single Boer in your congregation! Why need you say the Chartered Company raid on Johannesburg was wrong?'

"He said, 'My wife, if I believe that certain men whom we have raised on high, and to whom we have given power, have done a cowardly wrong, shall I not say it?'

"And she said, 'Yes, and only a little while ago, when Rhodes was licking the dust off the Boers' feet that he might keep them from suspecting while he got ready this affair, then you attacked both Rhodes and the Bond (The Afrikander Bond, the organised Dutch political party, through whom Mr. Rhodes worked, and by whom he was backed.) for trying to pa.s.s a Bill for flogging the n.i.g.g.e.rs, and we lost fifty pounds we might have got for the church?' And he said, 'My wife, cannot G.o.d be worshipped as well under the dome of the heaven He made as in a golden palace? Shall a man keep silence, when he sees oppression, to earn money for G.o.d? If I have defended the black man when I believed him to be wronged, shall I not also defend the white man, my flesh-brother? Shall we speak when one man is wronged and not when it is another?'

"And she said, 'Yes, but you have your family and yourself to think of!

Why are you always in opposition to the people who could do something for us? You are only loved by the poor. If it is necessary for you to attack some one, why don't you attack the Jews for killing Christ, or Herod, or Pontius Pilate; why don't you leave alone the men who are in power today, and who with their money can crush you!'

"And he said, 'Oh my wife, those Jews, and Herod, and Pontius Pilate are long dead. If I should preach of them now, would it help them? Would it save one living thing from their clutches? The past is dead, it lives only for us to learn from. The present, the present only, is ours to work in, and the future ours to create. Is all the gold of Johannesburg or are all the diamonds in Kimberley worth, that one Christian man should fall by the hand of his fellows--aye, or one heathen brother?'

"And she answered, 'Oh, that is all very well. If you were a really eloquent preacher, and could draw hundreds of men about you, and in time form a great party with you at its head, I shouldn't mind what you said.

But you, with your little figure and your little voice, who will ever follow you? You will be left all alone; that is all the good that will ever come to you through it.'

"And he said, 'Oh my wife, have I not waited and watched and hoped that they who are n.o.bler and stronger than I, all over this land, would lift up their voices and speak--and there is only a deadly silence? Here and there one has dared to speak aloud; but the rest whisper behind the hand; one says, 'My son has a post, he would lose it if I spoke loud'; and another says, 'I have a promise of land'; and another, 'I am socially intimate with these men, and should lose my social standing if I let my voice be heard.' Oh my wife, our land, our goodly land, which we had hoped would be free and strong among the peoples of earth, is rotten and honeycombed with the tyranny of gold! We who had hoped to stand first in the Anglo-Saxon sisterhood for justice and freedom, are not even fit to stand last. Do I not know only too bitterly how weak is my voice; and that that which I can do is as nothing: but shall I remain silent? Shall the glow-worm refuse to give its light, because it is not a star set up on high; shall the broken stick refuse to burn and warm one frozen man's hands, because it is not a beacon-light flaming across the earth? Ever a voice is behind my shoulder, that whispers to me--'Why break your head against a stone wall? Leave this work to the greater and larger men of your people; they who will do it better than you can do it! Why break your heart when life could be so fair to you?' But, oh my wife, the strong men are silent! and shall I not speak, though I know my power is as nothing?'

"He laid his head upon his hands.

"And she said, 'I cannot understand you. When I come home and tell you that this man drinks, or that that woman has got into trouble, you always answer me, 'Wife, what business is it of ours if so be that we cannot help them?' A little innocent gossip offends you; and you go to visit people and treat them as your friends, into whose house I would not go. Yet when the richest and strongest men in the land, who could crush you with their money, as a boy crushes a fly between his finger and thumb, take a certain course, you stand and oppose them.'

"And he said, 'My wife, with the sins of the private man, what have I to do, if so be I have not led him into them? Am I guilty? I have enough to do looking after my own sins. The sin that a man sins against himself is his alone, not mine; the sin that a man sins against his fellows is his and theirs, not mine: but the sins that a man sins, in that he is taken up by the hands of a people and set up on high, and whose hand they have armed with their sword, whose power to strike is their power--his sins are theirs; there is no man so small in the whole nation that he dares say, 'I have no responsibility for this man's action.' We armed him, we raised him, we strengthened him, and the evil he accomplishes is more ours than his. If this man's end in South Africa should be accomplished, and the day should come when, from the Zambezi to the sea, white man should fly at white man's throat, and every man's heart burn with bitterness against his fellow, and the land be bathed with blood as rain--shall I then dare to pray, who have now feared to speak? Do not think I wish for punishment upon these men. Let them take the millions they have wrung out of this land, and go to the lands of their birth, and live in wealth, luxury, and joy; but let them leave this land they have tortured and ruined. Let them keep the money they have made here; we may be the poorer for it; but they cannot then crush our freedom with it. Shall I ask my G.o.d Sunday by Sunday to brood across the land, and bind all its children's hearts in a close-knit fellowship;--yet, when I see its people betrayed, and their jawbone broken by a stroke from the hand of gold; when I see freedom pa.s.sing from us, and the whole land being grasped by the golden claw, so that the generation after us shall be born without freedom, to labour for the men who have grasped all, shall I hold my peace? The Boer and the Englishman who have been in this land, have not always loved mercy, nor have they always sought after justice; but the little finger of the speculator and monopolist who are devouring this land will be thicker on the backs of the children of this land, black and white, than the loins of the Dutchmen and Englishmen who have been.'

"And she said, 'I have heard it said that it was our duty to sacrifice ourselves for the men and women living in the world at the same time as ourselves; but I never before heard that we had to sacrifice ourselves for people that are not born. What are they to you? You will be dust, and lying in your grave, before that time comes. If you believe in G.o.d,'

she said, 'why cannot you leave it to Him to bring good out of all this evil? Does He need YOU to be made a martyr of? or will the world be lost without YOU?'

"He said, 'Wife, if my right hand be in a fire, shall I not pull it out?

Shall I say, 'G.o.d may bring good out of this evil,' and let it burn?

That Unknown that lies beyond us we know of no otherwise than through its manifestation in our own hearts; it works no otherwise upon the sons of men than through man. And shall I feel no bond binding me to the men to come, and desire no good or beauty for them--I, who am what I am, and enjoy what I enjoy, because for countless ages in the past men have lived and laboured, who lived not for themselves alone, and counted no costs? Would the great statue, the great poem, the great reform ever be accomplished, if men counted the cost and created for their own lives alone? And no man liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself. You cannot tell me not to love the men who shall be after me; a soft voice within me, I know not what, cries out ever, 'Live for them as for your own children.' When in the circle of my own small life all is dark, and I despair, hope springs up in me when I remember that something n.o.bler and fairer may spring up in the spot where I now stand.'

"And she said, 'You want to put everyone against us! The other women will not call on me; and our church is more and more made up of poor people. Money holds by money. If your congregation were Dutchmen, I know you would be always preaching to love the Englishmen, and be kind to n.i.g.g.e.rs. If they were Kaffirs you would always be telling them to help white men. You will never be on the side of the people who can do anything for us! You know the offer we had from--'

"And he said, 'Oh my wife, what are the Boer, and the Russian, and the Turk to me; am I responsible for their action? It is my own nation, mine, which I love as a man loves his own soul, whose acts touch me. I would that wherever our flag was planted the feeble or oppressed peoples of earth might gather under it, saying, 'Under this banner is freedom and justice which knows no race or colour.' I wish that on our banner were blazoned in large letters "Justice and Mercy", and that in every new land which our feet touch, every son among us might see ever blazoned above his head that banner, and below it the great order:--"By this sign, Conquer!"--and that the pirate flag which some men now wave in its place, may be torn down and furled for ever! Shall I condone the action of some, simply because they happen to be of my own race, when in Bushman or Hottentot I would condemn it? Shall men belonging to one of the mightiest races of earth, creep softly on their bellies, to attack an unwarned neighbour; when even the Kaffir has again and again given notice of war, saying, 'Be ready, on such and such a day I come to fight you?' Is England's power so broken, and our race so enfeebled, that we dare no longer to proclaim war; but must creep silently upon our bellies in the dark to stab, like a subject people to whom no other course is open? These men are English; but not English-MEN. When the men of our race fight, they go to war with a blazoned flag and the loud trumpet before them. It is because I am an Englishman that these things crush me. Better that ten thousand of us should lie dead and defeated on one battlefield, fighting for some great cause, and my own sons among them, than that those twelve poor boys should have fallen at Doornkop, fighting to fill up the pockets of those already oe'r-heavy with gold.'

"And she said, 'YOU, what does it matter what you feel or think; YOU will never be able to do anything!'

"And he said, 'Oh my wife, stand by me; do not crush me. For me in this matter there is no path but one on which light shines.'

"And she said, 'You are very unkind; you don't care what the people say about us!' and she wept bitterly, and went out of the room. But as soon as the door was shut, she dried her tears; and she said to herself, 'Now he will never dare to preach such a sermon again. He dares never oppose me when once I have set down my foot.'

"And the man spoke to no one, and went out alone in the veld. All the afternoon he walked up and down among the sand and low bushes; and I walked there beside him.

"And when the evening came, he went back to his chapel. Many were absent, but the elders sat in their places, and his wife also was there.

And the light shone on the empty benches. And when the time came he opened the old book of the Jews; and he turned the leaves and read:--'If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be slain; if thou sayest, 'Behold we knew it not!' Doth not he that pondereth the heart consider it? and he that keepeth thy soul, doth he not know it?'

"And he said, 'This morning we considered the evils this land is suffering under at the hands of men whose aim is the attainment of wealth and power. Tonight we shall look at our own share in the matter.

I think we shall realise that with us, and not with the men we have lifted up on high, lies the condemnation.' Then his wife rose and went out, and others followed her; and the little man's voice rolled among the empty benches; but he spoke on.

"And when the service was over he went out. No elder came to the porch to greet him; but as he stood there one, he saw not whom, slipped a leaflet into his hand. He held it up, and read in the lamplight what was written on it in pencil. He crushed it up in his hand, as a man crushes that which has run a poisonous sting into him; then he dropped it on the earth as a man drops that he would forget. A fine drizzly rain was falling, and he walked up the street with his arms folded behind him, and his head bent. The people walked up the other side; and it seemed to him he was alone. But I walked behind him."

"And then," asked Peter, seeing that the stranger was silent, "what happened to him after that?"

"That was only last Sunday," said the stranger.

There was silence again for some seconds.

Then Peter said, "Well, anyhow, at least he didn't die!"

The stranger crossed his hands upon his knees. "Peter Simon Halket,"

he said, "it is easier for a man to die than to stand alone. He who can stand alone can, also, when the need be, die."

Peter looked up wistfully into the stranger's face. "I should not like to die myself," he said, "not yet. I shall not be twenty-one till next birthday. I should like to see life first."

The stranger made no answer.

Presently Peter said, "Are all the men of your company poor men?"

The stranger waited a while before he answered; then he said,--"There have been rich men who have desired to join us. There was a young man once; and when he heard the conditions, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions."

There was silence again for a while.

"Is it long since your company was started?" asked Peter.

"There is no man living who can conceive of its age," said the stranger.

"Even here on this earth it began, when these hills were young, and these lichens had hardly shown their stains upon the rocks, and man still raised himself upwards with difficulty because the sinews in his thighs were weak. In those days, which men reck not of now, man, when he hungered, fed on the flesh of his fellow man and found it sweet. Yet even in those days it came to pa.s.s that there was one whose head was higher than her fellows and her thought keener, and, as she picked the flesh from a human skull, she pondered. And so it came to pa.s.s the next night, when men were gathered around the fire ready to eat, that she stole away, and when they went to the tree where the victim was bound, they found him gone. And they cried one to another, 'She, only she, has done this, who has always said, 'I like not the taste of man-flesh; men are too like me; I cannot eat them.' 'She is mad,' they cried; 'let us kill her!' So, in those dim, misty times that men reck not of now, that they hardly believe in, that woman died. But in the heads of certain men and women a new thought had taken root; they said, 'We also will not eat of her. There is something evil in the taste of human flesh.' And ever after, when the fleshpots were filled with man-flesh, these stood aside, and half the tribe ate human flesh and half not; then, as the years pa.s.sed, none ate.

"Even in those days, which men reck not of now, when men fell easily open their hands and knees, they were of us on the earth. And, if you would learn a secret, even before man trod here, in the days when the dicynodont bent yearningly over her young, and the river-horse which you find now nowhere on earth's surface, save buried in stone, called with love to his mate; and the birds whose footprints are on the rocks flew in the sunshine calling joyfully to one another--even in those days when man was not, the fore-dawn of this kingdom had broken on the earth. And still as the sun rises and sets and the planets journey round, we grow and grow."

The stranger rose from the fire, and stood upright: around him, and behind him, the darkness stood out.

"All earth is ours. And the day shall come, when the stars, looking down on this little world, shall see no spot where the soil is moist and dark with the blood of man shed by his fellow man; the sun shall rise in the East and set in the West and shed his light across this little globe; and nowhere shall he see man crushed by his fellows. And they shall beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. And instead of the thorn shall come up the fir-tree; and instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree: and man shall nowhere crush man on all the holy earth. Tomorrow's sun shall rise,"

said the stranger, "and it shall flood these dark kopjes with light, and the rocks shall glint in it. Not more certain is that rising than the coming of that day. And I say to you that even here, in the land where now we stand, where today the cries of the wounded and the curses of revenge ring in the air; even here, in this land where man creeps on his belly to wound his fellow in the dark, and where an acre of gold is worth a thousand souls, and a reef of shining dirt is worth half a people, and the vultures are heavy with man's flesh--even here that day shall come. I tell you, Peter Simon Halket, that here on the spot where now we stand shall be raised a temple. Man shall not gather in it to worship that which divides; but they shall stand in it shoulder to shoulder, white man with black, and the stranger with the inhabitant of the land; and the place shall be holy; for men shall say, 'Are we not brethren and the sons of one Father?'"

Peter Halket looked upward silently. And the stranger said: "Certain men slept upon a plain, and the night was chill and dark. And, as they slept, at that hour when night is darkest, one stirred. Far off to the eastward, through his half-closed eyelids, he saw, as it were, one faint line, thin as a hair's width, that edged the hill tops. And he whispered in the darkness to his fellows: 'The dawn is coming.' But they, with fast-closed eyelids murmured, 'He lies, there is no dawn.'

"Nevertheless, day broke."

The stranger was silent. The fire burnt up in red tongues of flame that neither flickered nor flared in the still night air. Peter Halket crept near to the stranger.

"When will that time be?" he whispered; "in a thousand years' time?"

And the stranger answered, "A thousand years are but as our yesterday's journey, or as our watch tonight, which draws already to its close. See, piled, these rocks on which we now stand? The ages have been young and they have grown old since they have lain here. Half that time shall not pa.s.s before that time comes; I have seen its dawning already in the hearts of men."

Peter moved nearer, so that he almost knelt at the stranger's feet: his gun lay on the ground at the other side of the fire.

"I would like to be one of your men," he said. "I am tired of belonging to the Chartered Company."

The stranger looked down gently. "Peter Simon Halket," he said, "can you bear the weight?"

And Peter said, "Give me work, that I may try."