Take away his hair and his gun and he'd make a
first-class Schenectady bar-keep. He found me and the Zigler on the veldt
(Pretoria wasn't wholesome at that time), and he annexed me in a
somnambulistic sort o' way. He was dead against the war from the start,
but, being a Dutchman, he fought a sight better than the rest of that 'God
and the Mauser' outfit. Adrian Van Zyl. Slept a heap in the daytime--and
didn't love niggers. I liked him. I was the only foreigner in his
commando. The rest was Georgia Crackers and Pennsylvania Dutch--with a
dash o' Philadelphia lawyer. I could tell you things about them would
surprise you. Religion for one thing; women for another; but I don't know
as their notions o' geography weren't the craziest. 'Guess that must be
some sort of automatic compensation. There wasn't one blamed ant-hill in
their district they didn't know _and_ use; but the world was flat, they
said, and England was a day's trek from Cape Town.
"They could fight in their own way, and don't you forget it. But I guess
you will not. They fought to kill, and, by what I could make out, the
British fought to be killed. So both parties were accommodated.
"I am the captive of your bow and spear, Sir. The position has its
obligations--on both sides. You could not be offensive or partisan to me.
I cannot, for the same reason, be offensive to you. Therefore I will not
give you my opinions on the conduct of your war.
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