A white man mustnt be frightened in frontof
natives; and so, in general, he isnt frightened.
Most of the corpses I have seen looked
devilish.
It is impossible to watch the fillers at work
without feelling a pangof envy for their toughness.
A white man mustnt be frightened in frontof
natives; and so, in general, he isnt frightened.
He was lying on his bellywith arms crucified and
head sharply twisted to one side.
Thethick blood welled out of him like red velvet,
but still he did not die.
Probably our library subscribers were a fair
cross-section of Londonsreading public.
He is a sort of caryatid upon whose shoulders
nearly everythingthat is not grimy is supported. But I could get nothing into
perspective.
It is only when you seeminers down the mine and
naked that you realize what splendid men, theyare. I believe, though,that the
writers are more to blame here than the readers.
I remember that it was a cloudy,stuffy morning at
the beginning of the rains. Itwas an immense crowd, two thousand at the least and
growing every minute.
At the mere sight of a nineteenth-centurynovel
people say, Oh, but thats OLD!
One day something happened which in a roundabout
way was enlightening. Thesweet smell of decaying paper appeals to me no longer.
Normally each o man has to clear a space four or five yardswide.
He was lying on his bellywith arms crucified and
head sharply twisted to one side.
I waited a long time forhim to die, but his
breathing did not weaken. Afterwards, of course, there were endless discussions
about the shootingof the elephant. I hadcommitted myself to doing it when I sent for
the rifle. The owner was furious, but he was only an Indian andcould do nothing. But
their consumption of detective storiesis terrific.
The rifle was a beautiful German thing
withcross-hair sights.
But I did not want to shoot the
elephant.
They used to go on doing this even when they were
pregnant. But the fillers look and work as though they were made of iron. You call a
halt, ignominiously, andsay that you would like to rest for a minute or
two.
It is something just dumped on the earth, like the
emptyingof a giants dust-bin. But the fillers look and work as though they were made
of iron.
It was not, of course, awildelephant, but a tame
one which had gone must.
In a job like that you see thedirty work of Empire
at close quarters. And at that distance, peacefully eating, theelephant looked no
more dangerous than a cow. It is simply useless to putDickens, Thackeray, Jane
Austen, Trollope, etc. But also I knew that I was goingto do no such thing.