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• What are the bugles blowin' for ?

said Files-on-Parade. To turn you out, to turn you out,” the

Color-Sergeant said. " What makes you look so white, so

white ?” said Files-on-Parade. “I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch,”

the Color-Sergeant said. For they're bangin' Danny Deever,

you can hear the Dead March play, The regiment's in 'ollow square

they ’re hangin' him to-day ; They've taken of his buttons off an'

cut his stripes away, An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in

the mornin'.

“What's that so black agin the sun ?”

said Files-on-Parade. “It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life,” the

Color-Sergeant said. “What's that that whimpers over'ead ?”

said Files-on-Parade. “It's Danny's soul that 's passin' now,” the

Color-Sergeant said.
For they're done with Danny Deever,

you can ’ear the quickstep play,
The regiment 's in column, an' they 're

marchin' us away ; Ho! the young recruits are shakin',

an' they 'll want their beer to-day, After hangin' Danny Deever in the



56 What makes the rear-rank breathe so

'ard ?” said Files-on-Parade. “ It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold,” the

Color-Sergeant said. “ What makes that front-rank man fall

down ?says Files-on-Parade. “A touch o'sun, a touch o'sun,” the Color

Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, they

are marchin' of 'im round,
They ’ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is

coffin on the ground; An' 'e'll swing in 'arf a minute for

a sneakin' shootin' hound Othey're hangin' Danny Deever in

the mornin'!

at your

“ 'Is cot was right-'and cot to mine," said

Files-on-Parade. 'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night,” the

Color-Sergeant said. “I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times,” said

Files-on-Parade. " 'E's drinkin' bitter beer alone,” the Color

Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, you

must mark 'im to 'is place,
For 'e shot a comrade sleepin' — you

must look 'im in the face ; Nine 'undred of 'is county an' the reg

iment's disgrace, While they're hangin' Danny Deever

in the mornin'.

(SOUDAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE) We've fought with many men acrost the

seas, An' some of 'em was brave an' some was

not, The Paythan an' the Zulu an' Burmese ;

But the Fuzzy was the finest o' the lot. We never got a ha’porth’s change of

'im : 'E squatted in the scrub an’’ocked our

'orses, 'E cut our sentries up at Suakim, An' 'e played the cat an' banjo with our

So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy,

'ome in the Soudan ;
You ’re a pore benighted 'eathen but

a first-class fightin' man; We gives you your certificate, an' if

you want it signed We'll come an ave a romp with you

whenever you 're inclined. We took our chanst among the Kyber

'ills, The Boers knocked us silly at a mile, The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills,

An'a Zulu impi dished us up in style : But all we ever got from such as they Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us

swaller ;



Oh, East is East, and West is West, and

never the twain shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's

great Judgment Seat ; But there is neither East nor West, Border,

nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, tho'

they come from the ends of the earth!

We'eld our bloomin' own, the papers

say, But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us

'oller. Then 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an'

the missis and the kid;
Our orders was to break you, an' of

course we went an' did.
We sloshed you with Martinis, an'

was n't ’ardly fair ;
But for all the odds agin' you, Fuzzy-

Wuz, you broke the square. 'E ’as n't got no papers of 'is own,

’E’as n't got no medals nor rewards, So we must certify the skill 'e 's shown

In usin' of 'is long two-'anded swords : When 'e 's 'oppin' in an' out among the

bush With 'is coffin-'eaded shield an' shovel

spear, An 'appy day with Fuzzy on the rush Will last an 'ealthy Tommy for a

year. So 'ere 's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an’

your friends which are no more, If we 'ad n't lost some messmates we

would ’elp you to deplore ; But give an' take's the gospel, an'

we'll call the bargain fair, For if you ’ave lost more than us, you

crumpled up the square !

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'E rushes at the smoke when we let

drive, An', before we know, 'e's 'ackin' at our

Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the

Border side, And he has lifted the Colonel's mare that

is the Colonel's pride : He has lifted her out of the stable-door

between the dawn and the day, And turned the calkins upon her feet, and

ridden her far away. Then up and spoke the Colonel's son that

led a troop of the Guides : “ Is there never a man of all my men can

say where Kamal hides ? » Then up and spoke Mahommed Khan, the

son of the Ressaldar, “If ye know the track of the morning-mist,

ye know where his pickets are. At dusk he harries the Abazai at dawn

he is into Bonair, But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own

place to fare, So if ye gallop to Fort Buklob as fast as

a bird can fly, By the favor of God ye may cut him off

ere he win to the Tongue of Jagai, But if he be passed the Tongue of Jagai,

right swiftly turn ye then, For the length and the breadth of that

grisly plain is sown with Kamal's There is rock to the left, and rock to the

right, and low lean thorn between, And ye may hear a breech-bolt snick where

never a man is seen." The Colonel's son has taken a horse, and a

raw rough dun was he, With the mouth of a bell and the heart of

Hell, and the head of the gallows

tree. The Colonel's son to the Fort has won, they

bid him stay to eat — Who rides at the tail of a Border thief, he

sits not long at his meat.

'ead ;




'E's all ’ot sand an' ginger when alive, An' 'e's generally shammin' when 'e's

dead. ’E's a daisy, 'e's a ducky, 'e's a lamb !

'E's a injia-rubber idiot on the spree, 'E's the on'y thing that does n't give a

damn For a Regiment o' British Infantree ! So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your

'ome in the Soudan ; You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a

first-class fightin' man; An' 'ere 's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with

your 'ayrick ’ead of ’air You big black boundin' beggar — for

you broke a British square !



from Fort Bukloh as fast as he can fly, Till he was aware of his father's mare in

the gut of the Tongue of Jagai, Till he was aware of his father's mare with

Kamal upon her back, And when he could spy the white of her

eye, he made the pistol crack. He has fired once, he has fired twice, but

the whistling ball went wide. “ Ye shoot like a soldier," Kamal said.

“Show now if ye can ride.' It's up and over the Tongue of Jagai, as

blown dust-devils go, The dun he fled like a stag of ten, but the

mare like a barren doe. The dun he leaned against the bit and

slugged his head above, But the red mare played with the snaffle

bars, as a maiden plays with a glove. There was rock to the left and rock to the

right, and low lean thorn between, And thrice he heard a breech-bolt snick

tho' never a man was seen. They have ridden the low moon out of

the sky, their hoofs drum up the

dawn, The dun went like a wounded but

the mare like a new-roused fawn. The dun he fell at a water-course

woful heap fell he, And Kamal has turned the red mare back,

and pulled the rider free. He has knocked the pistol out of his hand

-small room was there to strive, “'T was only by favor of mine," quoth he,

“ye rode so long alive : There was not a rock for twenty mile,

there was not a clump of tree, But covered a man of my own men with

his rifle cocked on his knee. If I had raised my bridle-band, as I have

held it low, The little jackals that flee so fast, were

feasting all in a row : If I had bowed my head on my breast, as

I have held it high, The kite that whistles above us now were

gorged till she could not fly." Lightly answered the Colonel's son :

“ Do good to bird and beast, But count who come for the broken meats

before thon makest a feast. If there should follow a thousand swords

to carry my bones away,

Belike the price of a jackal's meal were

more than a thief could pay. They will feed their horse on the stand

ing crop, their men on the garnered

grain, The thatch of the byres will serve their

fires when all the cattle are slain. But if thou thinkest the price be fair,

thy brethren wait to sup, The hound is kin to the jackal-spawn,

howl, dog, and call them up! And if thou thinkest the price be high, in

steer and gear and stack, Give me my father's mare again, and I 'll

fight my own way back ! ” Kamal has gripped him by the hand and

set him upon his feet. “ No talk shall be of dogs,” said he, “when

wolf and gray wolf meet. May I eat dirt if thou hast hurt of me in

deed or breath ; What dam of lances brought thee forth to

jest at the dawn with Death ? " Lightly answered the Colonel's son: “I

hold by the blood of my clan : Take up the mare for my father's gift

by God, she has carried a man!” The red mare ran to the Colonel's son, and

nuzzled against his breast, “We be two strong men,” said Kamal

then, “but she loveth the younger

best. So she shall go with a lifter's dower, my

turquoise-studded rein, My broidered saddle and saddle-cloth, and

silver stirrups twain." The Colonel's son a pistol drew and held it

muzzle-end, “Ye have taken the one from a foe," said

“will ye take the mate from a

friend ?" “A gift for a gift,” said Kamal straight ;

" a limb for the risk of a limb. Thy father has sent his son to me, I'll

send my son to him !” With that he whistled his only son, that

dropped from a mountain-crest He trod the ling like a buck in spring, and

he looked like a lance in rest. “Now here is thy master," Kamal said,

“ who leads a troop of the Guides, And thou must ride at his left side as

shield on shoulder rides. Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp

and board and bed,

- in a

he ;


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Thy life is his — thy fate it is to guard him Wherefore he called to his wife, and fled with thy head.

to fashion his work anewSo thou must eat the White Queen's meat, The first of his race who cared a fig for the and all her foes are thine,

first, most dread review; And thou must harry thy father's hold for And he left his lore to the use of his sons the peace of the border-line.

- and that was a glorious gain And thou must make a trooper tough and When the Devil chuckled “ Is it Art?" in back thy way to power

the ear of the branded Cain. Belike they will raise thee to Ressaldar when I am hanged in Peshawur.” They builded a tower to shiver the sky and

wrench the stars apart, They have looked each other between the Till the Devil grunted behind the bricks : eyes, and there they found no fault,

“ It 's striking, but is it Art ?They have taken the Oath of the Brother- The stone was dropped at the quarry-side in-Blood on leavened bread and salt :

and the idle derrick swung, They have taken the Oath of the Brother- While each man talked of the aims of Art, in-Blood on fire and fresh-cut sod,

and each in an alien tongue. On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife,

and the Wondrous Names of God. They fought and they talked in the North The Colonel's son he rides the mare and and the South, they talked and they Kamal's boy the dun,

fought in the West, And two have come back to Fort Bukloh Till the waters rose on the pitiful land, and where there went forth but one.

the poor Red Clay had rest And when they drew to the Quarter-Guard, Had rest till the dank, blank-canvas dawn full twenty swords flew clear

when the dove was preened to start, There was not a man but carried his feud And the Devil bubbled below the keel : with the blood of the mountaineer.

“It's human, but is it Art ?" “ Ha' done! ha' done!" said the Colonel's

“ Put up the steel at your The tale is as old as the Eden Tree - and sides!

new as the new-cut tooth Last night ye had struck at a Border For each man knows ere his lip-thatch

thief — to-night 't is a man of the grows he is master of Art and Truth ; Guides !”

And each man hears as the twilight nears,

to the beat of his dying heart, Oh, East is East, and West is West, and The Devil drum on the darkened pane : never the two shall meet,

“ You did it, but was it Art ?" Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat ;

We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree But there is neither East nor West, Border, to the shape of a surplice-peg, nor Breed, nor Birth,

We have learned to bottle our parents When two strong men stand face to face, tho' twain in the yelk of an addled egg, they come from the ends of the earth. We know that the tail must wag the dog,

for the horse is drawn by the cart ;

But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of THE CONUNDRUM OF THE

old : “It's clever, but is it Art ? " WORKSHOPS

When the flicker of London sun falls faint WHEN the flush of a new-born sun fell first on the Club-room's green and gold, on Eden's green and gold,

The sons of Adam sit them down and scratch Our father Adam sat under the Tree and

with their pens in the mould — scratched with a stick in the mould ; They scratch with their pens in the mould And the first rude sketch that the world

of their graves, and the ink and the had seen was joy to his mighty heart, anguish start, Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, For the Devil mutters behind the leaves : “ It's pretty, but is it Art?

“ It 's pretty, but is it Art ? ”



Now, if we could win to the Eden Tree

where the Four Great Rivers flow, And the Wreath of Eve is red on the turf

as she left it long ago, And if we could come when the sentry

slept and softly scurry through, By the favor of God we might know as much

our father Adam knew.

The lair of the wolf is his refuge, but where

he has digged it too plain, The council shall send him a message, and

so he shall change it again. If ye kill before midnight be silent and

wake not the woods with your bay, Lest ye frighten the deer from the crop

and thy brothers go empty away. Ye may kill for yourselves, and your mates,

and your cubs as they need and ye

can ; But kill not for pleasure of killing, and

seven times never kill man.

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Now this is the law of the jungle, as old

and as true as the sky,
And the wolf that shall keep it may pros-

per, but the wolf that shall break it
must die.

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As the creeper that girdles the tree

trunk, the law runneth forward and

back ;
For the strength of the pack is the wolf,

and the strength of the wolf is the

The kill of the pack is the meat of the

pack. Ye must eat where it lies ; And no one may carry away of that meat

to his lair, or he dies.

go forth

Wash daily from nose tip to tail tip ; drink


The kill of the wolf is the meat of the deeply, but never too deep ;

wolf. He may do what he will, And remember the night is for hunting and But, till he is given permission, the pack forget not the day is for sleep.

may not eat of that kill. The jackal may follow the tiger, but, cub, Lair right is the right of the mother. From when thy whiskers are grown,

all of her year she may claim Remember the wolf is a hunter

One haunch of each kill for her litter, and and get food of thy own.

none may deny her the same. Keep peace with the lords of the jungle, Cub right is the right of the yearling. the tiger, the panther, the bear ;

From all of his pack he may claim And trouble not Hathi the Silent, and mock Full gorge when the killer has eaten ; and not the boar in his lair.

none may refuse him the same. When pack meets with pack in the jungle, Cave right is the right of the father, to hunt and neither will go from the trail,

by himself for his own; Lie down till the leaders have spoken ; it He is freed from all calls to the pack. He may be fair words shall prevail.

is judged by the council alone. When ye fight with a wolf of the pack ye Because of his age and his cunning, because must fight him alone and afar,

of his gripe and his paw, Lest others take part in the quarrel and In all that the law leaveth open the word the pack is diminished by war.

of the head wolf is law. The lair of the wolf is his refuge, and where Now these are the laws of the jungle, and he has made him his home,

many and mighty are they ; Not even the head wolf may enter, not even But the head and the hoof of the law and the the council may come.

haunch and the hump is — Obey !

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