Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1916-04-27

thick wooden SOCKS. No boors. or
course, didn't notice all that till af-
forwards. In his hand he carried
| sjambok. Suddenly the staring darky
seemed to feel him coming but, before
he could turn, the sjambok quirt came
down with the clinging sting of hide
on flesh. We saw the blood squirt.
The negro toppled without cry. He
fell inside, caught on a truss, chung,
and finally with struggle drew him
self up on to stringer. A shout of
laughter went up from his fellows.
Bodsky and l had heard it often
the laugh of the African for his broth
er in pain. And then they fell to
work again. The black with the blood
trickling off his back rested long
enough to get his breath and then
climbed back to his place on the CIR
der. He was grinning. Don't ask
me to explain it. Men have died try
ing to explain Africa.
"The white man had stopped and
half turned. He stood, little strad-
/
sjambok to and fro. His eyes were
blazing. From his lips dropped pat
ter Of all the vile words in Landin,
Swahili and half dozen other dia-
lects-the words that a white man
leans first If he listens to natives.
The jargon seemed to incfte the blacks.
They worked as clumsily as ever but
harder. They started to sing, as the
African does when he's getting up
special burst Of speed. Then the white
man walked off the girder on our side,
out of the way. 'Now's our time,' l
whispered to Bodsky He shook his
head slowly from side to side but l
was already under way. walked up
| to the white man and asked him II he
could let us across. He glanced around
as If he hadn't seen our outfit till that
moment and then he looked me square
in the eyes. we knock off at SIX he
said. and that was all.
II turned back. I'd been angry
before but never as angry as that.
Bodsky was already getting up the fly
of tent. I saw it coming he said
with his quiet little laugh that you
never hear when there's anything to
laugh at. Look here, Bodsky,'
said, let's walk to the old crossing
And he answered, My dear chap, I'm
going to sit right here. wouldn't
miss this for a shot at elephant That
man is Ten Percent Wayne
"'Where'd you meet him?' I asked.
"'Never met him. said Bodsky,
but I've heard of him. So had I.
We sat down together under the fly
on couple of loads and propped two
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES on another
load In front of us and watched Wayne
while Wayne watched his men.
Suppose we offer him a drink
said and ran the sweat off my eye
brows with my finger.
"Bodsky looked at me pityingly. so
you want to get burned again. Does
that man look to you as though he
was thinking about drink? Well, let
me tell you he isn't. Every bit Of him
Is thinking about that bridge every
minute. God! / haven't seen men
driven like that since I was boy.
Once more there's something new in
Africa! And I've never seen man
drive himself like that, anywhere All
the Monaghan and Tatar that is said
to Turk In every Russian seemed to
be leaking out Of Bodsky's narrowed
eyes.
1--WE sat there and drank and smoked
and sweated, and I sulked. Every once
In while Bodsky would say some
thing. First it was: Those boys are
from the South. Must have brought
them with him. Then it was: He
knows something about the sun. He
keeps his head in the shade-spot from
that lonely palm And finally: Col
fingeford, never despised your intel
lect before. What are you sulking
for? Can't you see what's up? Can't
you understand that if man will
stand for two hours shifting an inch
at time with the shade rather than
disturb half dozen niggers at work
to go and get helmet he isn't going
to call those niggers off to let couple
of loafers like US crawl across his
girders2 What you and are staring
at is just plain common garden work
with capital W, stark naked and
ugly, but it's great
"And right there saw the light. To
us two the mystery of Ten Percent
Wayne was revealed. He could drive
men. He could make bricks without
straw. While work was on, nothing
else mattered. Right and wrong were
measured by the needs, Of that bridge
and death was too good for the shirk-
er. And with the light I forgot the
brute in the man tearing along the
dizzy height Of the girder to lash
loafer and only remembered that he
had risked his life to avenge just one
moment stolen from the days work"
The stem Of Collingefords wine