"You carried him out?" "I s'pose so--I s'pose so--seeing as we were both there; and my clothes were in rags from the thorns, and my head cut open with a kerrie. Yes, I laid him afore the General. "`What's this?' he says. "`General,' I said, `this boy has saved the regiment; he could a' run-- but he didn't.' "`Who sounded the alarm?' he sed. "`It was him, and the pass is full of Kaffirs.' "The General stooped down, and looked into the little feller's face. "`Damn you, man,' he said, turning on me; `what did you take him into the wood for?' "The little chap opened his eyes, and they were fixed, all glazed, on the General, and the officers stood around, looking, and the soldiers in the square. "The General brought his hand to his cap, then he wheeled round: `Ninety fourth--present--arms!' "The ranks came to a salute, and the officers brought their heels together and their swords up. "The little chap let his eyes scan the lines. "`They are saluting you, my brave boy,' said the General. "I felt him move in my arms, and I lifted his hand to his head to salute. Then he sighed, then he smiled, and his eyes closed. `I'll wait for you, Abe,' he said, and he was dead. "`Ninety-fourth,' said the General, `the enemy's in the pass.' "They came by in columns, and as they passed, they looked at the little chap and saluted, and they went on in silence with their mouths shut. "They clean frightened the Kaffirs that time; and next day--they buried the little chap--the band playing--and all the regiment in full dress. My little chap--my little chap!" said Abe, in a whisper--"`I'll wait for you, Abe,' he sed. And when he sounds the bugle ole Abe'll go. Yes, I sit and listen for it." He sat still, looking toward the sea, and I went quietly away. CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. THE "RED" KAFFIRS! I found Abe Pike one afternoon poring over a newspaper, tracing each word with a horny finger, and laboriously spelling out the long words. "Getting hints about pumpkin-growing, Abe?" "No, sonny; jes' studying how to give spoon-food to infants, and you've come in time." The old man looked vexed. He suddenly rolled the paper into a ball, and threw it at a lizard. "It's mean!" he said; "danged mean!" "What?" He held out his hand, and I mechanically gave him my tobacco pouch. "Ever been to England?" he said. "Yes; you know I have." "Soh! Is the people there white?" "Of course!" "Same as you and me?" "A little whiter, I should say, Abe. What are you driving at?" "Look here, sonny! I've been in this country, man an' boy, ever since I were born; and, you b'lieve me, I never get hole of a paper from the Ole Land but there's some abuse of us colonists. That's why I ask you is they white." "What have they been saying now?" "Saying; why the same old story--that we're a hard lot, always driving the Kaffirs, an' killing 'em, an' stealing their lands, an' 'busin' their women-folk, and grindin' 'em down." "Well; what does it matter!"