ntermittent conversation. And then, all abruptly,
the peace and quietude was jarred awry by man.

Two bare-legged boys of eight or nine in some minor way broke some
rule of the camp--what it was I did not know; and a man who lay beside
me suddenly sat up and called to them. He was chief of the tribe, a
man with narrow forehead and narrow-slitted eyes, whose thin lips and
twisted sardonic features explained why the two boys jumped and tensed
like startled deer at the sound of his voice. The alertness of fear
was in their faces, and they turned, in a panic, to run. He called to
them to come back, and one boy lagged behind reluctantly, his meagre
little frame portraying in pantomime the struggle within him between
fear and reason. He wanted to come back. His intelligence and past
experience told him that to come back was a lesser evil than to run
on; but lesser evil that it was, it was great enough to put wings to
his fear and urge his feet to flight.

Still he lagged and struggled until he reached the shelter of the
trees, where he halted. The chief of the tribe did not pursue. He
sauntered over to a wagon and picked up a heavy whip. Then he came
back to the centre of the open space and stood still. He did not
speak. He made no gestures. He was the Law, pitiless and omnipotent.
He merely stood there and waited. And I knew, and all knew, and the
two boys in the shelter of the trees knew, for what he waited.

The boy who had lagged slowly came back. His face was stamped with
quivering resolution. He did not falter. He had made up his mind to
take his punishment. And mark you, the punishment was not for the
original offence, but for the offence of running away. And in this,
that tribal chieftain but behaved as behaves the exalted society in
which he lived. We punish our criminals, and when they escape and run
away, we bring them back and add to their punishment.

Straight up to the chief the boy came, halting at the proper distance
for the swing of the lash. The whip hissed through the air, and I
caught myself with a start of surprise at the weight of the blow. The
thin little leg was so very thin and little. The flesh showed white
where the lash had curled and bitten, and then, where the white had
shown, sprang up the savage welt, with here and there along its length
little scarlet oozings where the skin had broken. Again the whip
swung, and the boy's whole body winced in anticipation of the blow,
though he did not move