They used to be a very
brave race, but since they were able to get rum for their timber
and ivory, they're a lazy and drunken lot. Well, I must tell you
what Trent did then. He went to the priest's house where the gods
were kept - such a beastly hole - and he burned the place before
the eyes of all the natives. I believe they thought every moment
that we should be struck dead, and they stood round in a ring,
making an awful row, but they never dared interfere. He burnt the
place to the ground, and then what do you think he did? From the
King downward he made every Jack one of them come and work on his
road. You'll never believe it, but it's perfectly true. They
looked upon him as their conqueror, and they came like lambs when
he ordered it. They think they're slaves you know, and don't
understand their pay, but they get it every week and same as all
the other labourers - and oh, Aunt Ernie, you should see the King
work with a pickaxe! He is fat and so clumsy and so furiously
angry, but he's too scared of Trent to do anything but obey orders,
and there he works hour after hour, groaning, and the perspiration
rolls off him as though he were in a Turkish bath. I could go on
telling you odd things that happen here for hours, but I must finish
soon as the chap is starting with the mail.
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