infantry in the Empire. Adrian,” he says, “you're simply squandered on a cattle-run. You ought to be at the Staff College with De Wet.”
' “You catch De Wet and I come to your Staff College—eh,” says Adrian, laughing. “But you are so slow, Generaal. Why are you so slow? For a month,” he says, “you do so well and strong that we say we shall hands-up and come back to our farms. Then you send to England and make us a present of two—three—six hundred young men, with rifles and wagons and rum and tobacco, and such a great lot of cartridges, that our young men put up their tails and start all over again. If you hold an ox by the horn and hit him by the bottom he runs round and round. He never goes anywhere. So, too, this war goes round and round. You know that, Generaal!”
' “Quite right, Adrian,” says the General; “but you must believe your Bible.”
' “Hooh!” says Adrian, and reaches for the whisky. I've never known a Dutchman a professing Atheist, but some few have been rather active Agnostics since the British sat down in Pretoria. Old man Van Zyl—he told me—had soured on religion after Bloemfontein surrendered. He was a Free Stater for one thing.
' “He that believeth,” says the General, “shall not make haste. That's in Isaiah. We believe we're going to win, and so we don't make haste. As far as I'm concerned I'd like this war to last another five years. We'd have an army then. It's just this way, Mr. Zigler,” he says, “our people are brim-full of patriotism, but they've
