men came to him, and
begged to be allowed to work for the conqueror; their carpenters' shops,
the blacksmiths' forges were at the service of the high commander. No
German on the footpaths; hats raised from obsequious Teuton heads
whenever a Belgian officer passes. How the chivalry of Belgium heaped
coals of fire upon the German heads! And had the Hun been of such, a
fibre as to appreciate the lesson, of what great value we might hope
that it would be? But decent treatment never did appeal to the German;
he always held that clemency spelt weakness, and the fear of the
avenging German Michael. For did not the Emperor's Eagle now float over
Paris and Petersburg? That he knew well; for had not High Headquarters
told him of the message from the Kaiser by wireless from Nauen, the
self-same message that conveyed to Lettow himself the Iron Cross
decoration?

The Governor's wife was allowed to retain her palace and servants; but
all German women were kept strictly to their houses after six at night.
No looting, no riots, no disturbance. And German women began to be
piqued at the calm indifference of smart Belgian officers to the favours
they might have had. Openly chagrined were the local Hun beauties at
such a disregard of their full-blown charms.

"I fear for our women and children in Tabora," said the German doctor to
me in Morogoro. "Ach! what will the Belgians do when they hear the tales
that are told of our German troops in Belgium? You don't believe these
stories of German brutalities, do you?" he said anxiously, conciliatory.
But I did, and I told him so. "But you don't know the Belgian Askari; he
is cannibal; he is recruited from the pagan tribes in the forest of the
Congo, he files his front teeth to a point, and we know he is short of
supplies. What is going to happen to German children? It is the truth I
tell you," he went on, evidently with very sincere feeling. "You know
what became of the 1,500 Kavirondo porters your Government lent to the
Belgian General. Where are our prisoners that the Belgians took in Ujiji
and along the line? Eaten; all eaten." And he threw up his hands
tragically to heaven. "I know you won't believe it, but I swear to you
that Rumpel's story is true." Rumpel was Lettow's best intelligence
agent. "Our scout was a prisoner with a company of Belgian Askaris, you
know, and it was only that the Belgian company commander wanted to get
information from him that he was not eaten at once. Haven't yo