Perceval Gibbon

“ The carcasses of the cattle slaughtered for meat would be lying all over the place between the round huts, and bodies of men and women and children with them. The place would be swarming with the tall, black spearmen, each with a skin over his shoulder and about his loins; there would be a fearful jabber, a clatter of voices and laughter and probably screams, horrible screams, from some poor nigger whose death they'd be dragging out, hour after hour, for their fun. Near the main gate N'Komo was holding an indaba with his chief bucks. ”

“ It was Father Bates, the tall Scottish priest, who saw him and crossed the road to him.
"My friend," the priest accosted him, with a light tap on the shoulder. "You'll die the sooner if you take your hat off; but you'll die anyhow if you go on sitting here."
At his touch the mate looked round sharply. The tall white-clad Father, under his green-lined sun-umbrella, rested a steady look on his face.
"You're in trouble, I'm afraid," said the priest. "Is there anything a man can do for you?"
"No!" The word came hoarsely but curt from the mate's throat. "Leave me alone!" ”

“ He turned at last to the others, as though he now first noticed them.
"What's back of here?" he asked abruptly, motioning as he spoke to the still palms which poised over the galvanised iron roofs.
"How d'you mean?" A tall, willowy man in pyjamas answered him surprisedly. "There's nothing beyond here. It's just wild country."
"No white men?" asked the mate.
"Lord, no!" said the other. "White men die out there. It's just trees and niggers and wild beasts and fevers." He looked at the mate with a touch of amusement breaking through his curiosity. ”

“ The mate's face was strong and sunburnt, the face of a man of lively passions and crude emotions; but as he sat gazing forth at the little hectic town across the smooth harbour, it had a cast of profound and desperate unhappiness. Johnny Cos had not words to tell himself what he saw; he only knew, with awe and a certain amount of fear, that he moved in the presence of something tragic.
"James," began the captain again. ”

“ The thing was within an inch of being done; the stabbing assegai goes like lightning, you know; she must have been tasting the very bitterness of death. The man from the bush was not a second too soon. ”

“ He had the physique of a fighter and the presence of a man accustomed to exercise a crude authority. Their protests and warnings died down; and, after all, a man's life and death are very much his own concern in those regions.
He gave a half-nod to the other men, but no word, pulled his hard hat forward on his brow, and walked out to the aching sunlight, and towards a path that led between two iron huts to the fringe of the riotous bush. The telegraphists crowded to look after him, but he did not turn his head. He paused beneath the great palms, where the ground was clear ”

“ The white man's eyes followed the black finger to where a poor devil lay on the ground, impaled by a stake through his stomach. It was N'Komo's way of telling him what to expect, and he understood. He stopped talking.
"THE nigger who saw it all and told me about it said that when he had looked round on all the horrors he turned again towards N'Komo, and at the sight of his eyes N'Komo ceased to grin. His big brute face went all to bits, as a Kaffir's does when he is frightened. ”

“ It began with an account of a village hit by smallpox close by. Their way of dealing with smallpox is simple: they quarantine the infected village by posting armed men round it until all the villagers are starved to death or killed by the smallpox. Then they burn the village. It costs nothing, and it keeps the disease under. ”

“ He had just started on a campaign when this lonely white man arrived in the neighbourhood, passing through a bit of district with N'Komo's mark on it in the form of burned huts and bodies of people. A man N'Komo had killed was a sight to make Beelzebub sick. Torture, you know; mutilation—beastliness! The white man must have seen a good many such bodies.
"A district with M'Komo's mark on it, torture, you know, mutilation—beastliness" "N'Komo and his swashbucklers had slept the night in a captured kraal, and were still there in the morning when the white man arrived. ”