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Updated: June 6, 2025
This suspicion was, however, soon driven from his mind; for making an effort to rise to his feet, he found himself suddenly withheld by a powerful grasp, while a guttural voice muttered in his ear from behind, with accents half angry, half exultant, "Long-knife no move; see how Piankeshaw kill Long-knife's brudders! Piankeshaw great fighting-man!"
"And now let me give you a word of advice that will be of use to you as long as you live," said Cashel, impressively. "You did a very silly thing to-day. You threw a man down a fighting-man and then stood looking at him like a fool, waiting for him to get up and kill you. If ever you do that again, fall on him as heavily as you can the instant he's off his legs.
Sitting staring out into the moon-lit hazy dusk in the direction in which his chief had disappeared, Captain John Bruce wondered if he were really one of a band of armed men who hoped shortly to pour some two and a half thousand bullets into other men, really a soldier fighting and working and starving that the Flag might fly, really a primitive fighting-man with much blood upon his hands and an earnest desire for more or whether he were not a respectable Professor who would shortly wake, beneath mosquito-curtains, from a very dreadful dream.
As her eye fixed upon them, The O'Ruddy, illustrious fighting-man, saw his chance and bolted like a hare. The escape must have formed a great spectacle, but I had no time for appearances. As I was passing out of the door, the Countess, in her disappointed rage, threw a heavy ivory fan after me, which struck an innocent bystander in the eye, for which he apologized.
He was fond of me and greatly interested in my venture in the Cornhill, and also in all I told him about my good luck in getting the memoirs of a genuine Soudanese fighting-man. When I saw him after my new number had come out, I hastened to ask his verdict on the memoirs. I found him very sad and distracted. "Strachey, you have been 'had' entirely taken in. The memoirs are not genuine.
They boasted that slavery was their bulwark and arsenal; that, while every Northern soldier withdrew so much from the productive industry of the Union, every fighting-man at the South could be brought into the field, so long as the negroes were left to do the work that was to feed and clothe him. Were these negroes property? The laws of war justified us in appropriating them to our own use.
My notion was to get a bed and a meal in some secluded inn, and walk out next morning and pick up a slow train down the line. Linklater had disappeared towards the guard's van to find his luggage, and the soldiers were sitting on their packs with that air of being utterly and finally lost and neglected which characterizes the British fighting-man on a journey.
But nothing I have heard so well expresses the cold anger of the American fighting-man as these words which they chant to their bugle-march, "We've got four years to do this job." I have been so fortunate as to be able to watch three separate nations facing up to the splendour of Armageddon England, France, America. The spirit of each was different.
"Thar they go, the brutes!" roared Tom Bruce, adding as he sprang with his followers among the bushes, "show 'em your noses, and keep a good squint over your elbows." "Long-knife big fool, Piankeshaw eat him up!" cried, the old warrior, now releasing the soldier's throat from durance, but speaking with tones of ire and indignation: "shall see how great Injun fighting-man eat up white man!"
"Oh, but you have your dugouts!" said a careless little lady. The soldier smiled. It was no use talking. The people did not want to hear the tragic side of things. Bairnsfather's "Ole Bill" seemed to them to typify the spirit of the fighting-man... "'Alf a mo', Kaiser!"... The British soldier was gay and careless of death always. Shell-fire meant nothing to him.
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