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Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland by Olive Schreiner
page 33 of 80 (41%)
Tonight, at half-past three, she will die. I have known her since she was
a little child and played about the huts, while her mother worked in the
mealie fields. She was one of our company."

"Oh," said Peter.

"Other members we have here," said the stranger. "There was a prospector"-
-he pointed north; "he was a man who drank and swore when it listed him;
but he had many servants, and they knew where to find him in need. When
they were ill, he tended them with his own hands; when they were in
trouble, they came to him for help. When this war began, and all black
men's hearts were bitter, because certain white men had lied to them, and
their envoys had been killed when they would have asked England to put her
hand out over them; at that time certain of the men who fought the white
men came to the prospector's hut. And the prospector fired at them from a
hole he had cut in his door; but they fired back at him with an old
elephant gun, and the bullet pierced his side and he fell on the floor:--
because the innocent man suffers oftentimes for the guilty, and the
merciful man falls while the oppressor flourishes. Then his black servant
who was with him took him quickly in his arms, and carried him out at the
back of the hut, and down into the river bed where the water flowed and no
man could trace his footsteps, and hid him in a hole in the river wall.
And when the men broke into the hut they could find no white man, and no
traces of his feet. But at evening, when the black servant returned to the
hut to get food and medicine for his master, the men who were fighting
caught him, and they said, 'Oh, you betrayer of your people, white man's
dog, who are on the side of those who take our lands and our wives and our
daughters before our eyes; tell us where you have hidden him?' And when he
would not answer them, they killed him before the door of the hut. And
when the night came, the white man crept up on his hands and knees, and
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