and trying to climb those flaming cocoa-nut trees. It was all I could do to keep myself alive, let alone any one else.

Well-anyhow, after a bit the sickness began to blow over, and the people started to get on their legs again. Those that had managed to get through it alive, that is, because half of the beggars had copped it for good and all. I should think about fifty men in our village had snuffed out, and the other village had caught it pretty nigh as bad. They'd had a doing all right; and you never saw such a crowd of bally wrecks as that bunch when the fever had done with 'em. They seemed to take a mighty long time getting over it too. Not like me, they weren't. For all their size and healthy looks, I guess they haven't the guts in 'em a white man has. It only took me about a few days before I was up and doing and as fit as be damned again; but most of those birds were crawling about like a lot of sick sheep for a week and more afterwards.

When I judged it was safe I went back to the village again, for you can understand I was fed up by then with roosting by myself on the beach. Falapa and most of his lot had pegged out, but one of the women and a couple of boys were still in the hut. They looked pretty sick still; but they were getting over it all right, and I judged they'd be able to look after me again, so I settled down and took charge.

And then I got a surprise. As soon as I walked in, that woman and the two kids legged it as if I'd been Old Nick himself. And I'll be shot if I could get 'em to come back again either! I couldn't understand it, and I was mad about it too. You'd have been. I wanted some of them, I didn't care who, to rustle some grub, and cook and look after the place like they'd done for me before. But, hang me if I could get a single soul to as much as look at me. It's queer, but they all seemed scared to death of me; and all they'd do, when I got talking to 'em, was run away. was rum, and I tried hard to find out what was up. But there was nothing doing, and none of 'em would come within yards of me. I couldn't find out what was up; and, to tell you the truth, I don't know yet.

It

And now, here's the queerest part of the whole business. What had come over them beats me; but that very night, after I'd given 'em up and turned in, I'll be shot if the swine didn't wait till I was asleep, and then the whole boiling set on me! I came to with about two dozen of 'em sitting on me, and the rest were holding on to my arms and legs. I made a fight for it, of course. I did what I could, and I bet I've left my mark on a good few of the beggars. But scrap as I would, it wasn't any use. There were too many of 'em, and it wasn't

long before they'd got me triced up so tight that I couldn't hardly wriggle a toe, let alone move hand or foot. The swine did the job properly, there's no doubt about that. They'd got me where they wanted me, and they weren't taking any chances of my getting myself loose. At first I hadn't a notion what it was they had in their minds to do with me; but when they lifted me up and carried me down to the beach, all triced up like some damned bag of copra, then I began to see a light. They dumped me into a canoe that was half-full of green cocoanuts, with a little square sail rigged up forward, and-well, then I knew what it was all about. It was my funeral they were busy on!

Now, if you'll tell me what made the beggars do that to me I'll thank you. I'd like to know. I've puzzled over it since, but I can't make it out at all. It beats me. If I'd been dying or sick, or broken my leg or something, I could understand it. But there I was, the strongest healthiest man in the whole island by a long way.

And

yet, there they were, treating me just as if I was dead. Yes, damn them. From the hurry they were in to get shot of me you'd have thought I was dead already - and stinkin'. Yes. The swine buried me! They shoved me off the beach and left me to drift off out to sea -to rot. They buried mebut I'm not dead yet. No.

Not by a long shot. And when I get back there again they'll soon find that out, you believe me. I'll show them they can't play their heathen games on a white man that way. Let 'em wait awhile. I'm still aliveand kicking. As a matter of fact, I started to kick as soon as they shoved me off the beach. I was seized up good and tight, as I've told you; but, before it got light, I'd chewed through all the lashings I could get at, and so it wasn't long before I got loose. The canoe had run away off to loo'ard of the island, of course, by that time, and I couldn't see a sign of the land when it got light. And I couldn't have beat back to the place again against the wind, even if I'd wanted to, so I kept her going west and started to take stock of what I'd got aboard in the way of grub and gear. For a start, there was about forty green nuts; and that was all to the good, for there's both food and drink in them, and I thought they'd keep me going for a week or two if need be. And then they'd put in my fishing-gear and a pot or so, as was usual; so I figured out, if only I could keep afloat, I wouldn't do so bad after all, and with luck I might manage to get myself ashore again somewhere yet. So I kept the canoe sailing dead before the wind. I kept her at it night and day. It was all there was to do. And it may not sound much, talking about it now; but I want

you to know it was just plain hell from the very start, and it got worse all the time. None of it was what you'd call fun; but it was the sun mostly I couldn't stick. I hadn't a hat, or much on me in the way of clothes, as you'll have seen, so I fairly got fried and boiled. And every time the night 'd come I'd be surprised, because, you see, I didn't expect to keep alive that long. And yesterday, I guess, it had got a bit too much, even for me. And if you hadn't turned up like you did, I think by this time I'd have passed in my checks for good. However hell, here I am, fit and hearty yet. And when I get backBut look here! We're wasting time. Why, here we are, running off to the west'ard, away from the island, and we ought to have had this schooner hard on a wind and beating back as soon as I got aboard her. Turn out the hands, man, right away, and get this old packet close-hauled as soon as you know how. Lord! Lord the way we're going now we're running away from both our fortunes. Put her on the wind quick, and let's get back to the island.

And when we do get back we'll have to start right in

and show those brutes they've got to forget their savage notions and take to decent white man's ways. We'll turn 'em to, all of 'em, diving for our shell. They won't want to at first, I guess, but we'll just have to make them. When you come to think of it, it's doing 'em a kindness after all. They're savage, ignorant, lazy brutes, and so we'll have to teach 'em that sort of thing won't do nowadays. They're just plain savages, you can't deny that, and it's our job to get 'em civilised as soon as we can, and teach 'em to work, like the rest of us have to. The best thing will be to try 'em with the liquor first. You know-the old game. Give 'em some to start with, and then, when they've got the taste for it, if they want any more they'll have to pay for it

with the pearls. And if that doesn't work we'll have to shoot a few to show 'em who's top dog. Perhaps it'd be best to do that first anyway. There's nothing like a little blood-letting for pumping sense into a crowd like that. They need civilising bad. And I feel I'm the right sort to do it. So you leave it to me. I'll soon spread the light.

In the early days of the War all kinds of rumours flew about India, their improbability being only matched by the credulity of the millions who swallowed them wholesale. When the Kaiser flew to Delhi in an aeroplane, and went off again carrying the Viceroy with him as hostage, no surprise was evinced, and when that canard was scotched by the appearance of Lord Hardinge in public, many others took its place. Most unfortunate for those concerned was the tale got hold of by the Hindus of Jhang and Muzaffargarh that the Germans had reached Karachi, and that the British, having abandoned authority, were leaving by Bombay. The Mahommedan peasantry were slow to believe them, but very quick to act, once they were convinced of the truth of the story. They rose simultaneously over a large area, attacked and killed many Hindus, looted and burned their houses, and ravished in a wholesale manner. They had an unpleasant shock later on when they discovered that the British Government was still functioning, and poured much abuse on the Hindus for having misled them.

This is not the time for consideration of the fact that later on, when India understood, or thought it understood, the

meaning of the Reforms, the Jhang Muzaffargarh affair was repeated from north to south, from east to west, but the tale that follows may help readers to understand why, with the material that exists in rural areas, so many outbreaks of trouble have occurred since 1919. In the District of Hazratabad, under the shadow of the Salt Range, lies the great village of Kalru. Although the Pathan population owns a big expanse of hill and plain, the three thousand inhabitants are huddled in one cluster of houses at the foot of the slopes. Some of the fields are over five miles from the village, but the people all live together at the one spot because man must have water to drink, and when all the great tanks which are fitfully filled by the hill torrents have been drunk from to the last ooze of mud, and the pitiless sun has baked them all dry, there remains one living stream up the ravine above the village site. Men and women become lithe and supple owing to the distances they are forced to cover daily with plough or water-pot, and in consequence when the champions meet at the fairs for the great running game of Doda, a couple from Kalru usually shows the finest turn of speed. The village is somewhat