Gil the Gunner: The Youngest Officer in the EastFenn, George Manville
General
Gil the Gunner: The Youngest Officer in the East
Fenn, George Manville
Great Britain. Army -- Colonial forces -- India -- Juvenile fiction; Young men -- Juvenile fiction
I suppose it was a good deal due to the petting bestowed upon him, but I
found my charger--the Sheik--as I called him, at Captain Brace's
suggestion, grew quite attached to me, and would follow me like a dog.
And in spite of the intense heat, it was a pleasant life when I grew
more used to my work, and less conscious and afraid of ridicule. I had
my servants, who were very obedient and servile, but not at all
attentive. I was too easy with them, Barton said, and he told me that a
good kicking would do them good. Certainly his men flew to obey every
word, and shrank at every look.
"And hate him like poison," Captain Brace said bitterly.
But they did not show their hatred, if Brace was right; and no officer
rode out to parade in better trim than Barton.
One hot day, as I was seated panting at my shuttered window, I saw that
Barton's way of treating the syces was imitated by his subordinates, for
one of the Serjeants, for some reason or another, raised his hand to
strike a white-clothed figure across the enclosure, but altered his
mind, and kicked him instead, with the result that the man shrank away,
but made no sign, and I could not help thinking what a tyrant the white
man was to the conquered black.
I don't know how it was, but as I lay back in my chair weary after a
heavy morning drill, and drowsy from the effects of a good breakfast, I
kept my eyes on the white-clothed figure whom the serjeant had kicked.
He had stood like a statue till the serjeant had gone into the barracks,
but as soon as the officer's back was turned, I saw him glance round
sharply, and then he appeared to be speaking to the natives near him in
a quick excited way.
From where I lay back, it was like looking at some photograph, every
figure stood out so sharply in the bright sunshine, and I was just
thinking that I did not feel so indignant at what had taken place as I
had when I had first witnessed such a thing, when I half sleepily
noticed that the native had left the group of syces by the open doorway
which looked black on the white walls. Then he appeared to be crossing
the great barrack square, and passed out of my sight, while my eyes
closed, and I was dropping off to sleep, when I started wide-awake again
listening.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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