he "Cape Boys," as
they are called. They are the coloured offspring of a European and a
Hottentot or a Malay and are of all shades, from a darkish brown to a
mere tinge. They dislike being called "niggers." The first time I saw
these Cape Boys was in France during the war. South Africa sent over
thousands of them to recruit the labour battalions and they did
excellent work as teamsters and in other capacities. The Cape Boy,
however, is the exception to the native rule throughout the Union, which
means that most native labour is unstable and discontented.

Not only is the South African native a menace to economic expansion but
he is likewise something of a physical danger. In towns like Pretoria
and Johannesburg there is a considerable feeling of insecurity. Women
shrink from being left alone with their servants and are filled with
apprehension while their little ones are out under black custodianship.
The one native servant, aside from some of the Cape Boys, who has
demonstrated absolute fidelity, is the Zulu whom you see in largest
numbers in Natal. He is still a proud and kingly-looking person and he
carried with him a hint of the vanished greatness of his race. Perhaps
one reason why he is safe and sane reposes in his recollection of the
repeated bitter and bloody defeats at the hands of the white men. Yet
the Zulu was in armed insurrection in Natal in the nineties.

South Africa enjoys no guarantee of immunity from black uprising even
now in the twentieth century when the world uses the aeroplane and the
wireless. During the past thirty years there have been outbreaks
throughout the African continent. As recently as 1915 a fanatical form
of Ethiopianism broke out in Nyassaland which lies north-east of
Rhodesia, under the sponsorship of John Chilembwe, a negro preacher who
had been educated in the United States. The natives rose, killed a
number of white men and carried off the women. Of course, it was
summarily put down and the leaders executed. But the incident was
significant.

Prester John, whose story is familiar to readers of John Buchan's fine
romance of the same name, still has disciples. Like Chilembwe he was a
preacher who had acquired so-called European civilization. He dreamed of
an Africa for the blacks and took his inspiration from the old kings of
Abyssinia. He too met the fate of all his kind but his spirit goes
marching on. In 1919 a Pan-African Congress was held in Paris to discuss
some plan for