Cinderella in the South | Page 4

was no longer a cold one. The pack

were belling and chiming over it, and they were running with their
huntsman out of sight.
'I don't understand this bit of work properly,' Spenser said. 'What's
made the dry bones live?'
'Inspiration,' I said reverently. 'Looked at in one way it's Art. Looked at
all ways it's Religion. It's the same sort of thing as went on, I suppose,
when the faith of sun and moon was a power. Now the faith of Christ is
gathering force in the land. The land isn't an Italy, and our twentieth
century isn't that old thirteenth century; yet look out for the signs and
wonders you spoke of. Likely enough they're to be expected.'
We went to the Pageant Master's lecture on the Mabgwe Ruins that
night, when we had driven back to Rosebery. It was more interesting to
me as a subjective study than an objective display of learning.
'Poor creatures!' the lecturer said of the natives. 'Don't put them in a
false light. Whatever claims they may have to equable treatment, they
have no claim to be considered romantic. The ancient romance of this
country is the romance of a nobler race the romance of the Tyrian
trader, Tyrian or Sabaean. Allow me but a trifling emendation, and
Matthew Arnold's lines will serve to indicate that romance.'
Substituting 'Zambesians' for 'Iberians,' he gave us the last lines of 'The
Scholar Gipsy.' 'In that era of Tyre's trade,' he concluded, 'I place the
golden age of our country a golden age which under our own Imperial
rule begins anew.'
'H'm,' said Spenser. 'That live Mashona building-boy's worth many
dead Phoenicians to me, at any rate. As to defining romance, we'd
better agree to differ. 'Do well unto thyself, and all men will speak well
of thee,' he went on, with a tang of bitterness. 'Jew-boys and Arabs
mopped up trade when they were living, now they jump other men's
kudos, being dead.'
'Never mind.' I said. 'Art for Art's sake, aspiration for aspiration's, faith
for faith's! And some there be which have no memorial; who are
perished as though they had never been; and are become as though they

had never been born; and their children after them.'
'Never mind,' it was his turn to say. 'That granite kopje church is rising,
and Magbwe Ruins stand the quick and the dead. These shall both
come up for judgment and get justice. Yes, if they have to wait for it till
the Supreme Court of Alt holds session.'

NEW LIGHT ON AN OLD CHAMPION

We were going on an expedition long before the morning light came.
Our ship was an armed steamer a converted cargo boat. We had
reinforced our naval guns' crews and our Indian ship's guard by taking
officers and native soldiers (askaris) aboard at a certain bay. We had
reinforced our artillery by borrowing a Maxim from the shore. I had a
guest on board that night, a cheerful padre. How he seemed to relish his
craft, and how able I esteemed him. I was very raw at the work, and he
helped me to understand what my defects were both in nature and grace.
He had the sort of smile, I thought the real, right sort to warm a naval
parishioner's heart. He was very keen on the new sort of thrills and
experiences that he had sought for himself by coming aboard.
We reclined on camp beds high up on the bridge-deck, but we did not
drop asleep when the electric light failed and faded. We asked each
other's ages, and discussed parts of England as we had known them in
more peaceful days; then we assured one another that we wanted to rise
early. We were to steam off on our sudden raid in the dark. Coffee had
been ordered about 5:30; action might be expected to begin not much
later than 6 a.m. We speculated as to whether it were true that our ship
would have to face an old field gun's fire on the morrow, as well as a
Maxim's. I was eloquent as I told how our four-inch gun might be
expected to shake the ship. After that, in the dimness we talked shop;
we had neither of us possibly had many easy openings for that
ravishing employment lately.
Was it right to pray for our own side's success? I was steadfast in my

scruples as to praying thus, my new-found friend was inclined to be a
little scornful of them. 'Is there a God of the Germans fighting the
English tribal God?' I asked rather irreverently, and my friend showed
that he was shocked. I apologized. 'Let's leave the Supreme Power out,'
I said. 'Let's consider the action of the saints in this war. Are