THE BOY. (Mainly concerning the early life of Moussa Isa Somali.)

Moussa Isa Somali never stole, lied, seduced, cheated, drank, swore, gambled, betrayed, slandered, blasphemed, nor behaved meanly nor cowardlybut, alas!

One has known people who have owned to a sneaking liking and unwilling admiration for Lucifer, Son of the Morningpeople of the same sort as those who find it difficult wholly to revere the prideless Erect when comparing them with the prideful Fallenand, for the life of me, I cannot help a sneaking liking and unwilling admiration for Moussa Isa Somali, who fell through Pride.

All of which is mere specious and idle special pleading on behalf of Moussa Isa, a sinful murderous Somali.... Most of the memories of Moussa Isa centred round scars.

He was black, he was filthy, he was savage, ignorant and uglybut he had his Pride, both personal and racial, for he was a Somali.

A Somali, mark you, not a mere Hubshi or Woolly One, not a common Nigger, not a low and despicable personworshipping idols, eating human flesh, grubs, roots and barkthe "black ivory" of Arabs.

Picked up after the raid and pursuit with a faceful of gravel, sand, dirt, and tetanus-germs, Moussa Isa, orphan, was flung on a pile of dead Somali spearmen and swordsmen, of horses, asses, camels, negroes, (old) women and other cattleand, crawling off again, received kicks and orders to clean and polish certain much ensanguined weapons sullied with the blood of his near and distant relatives.

At any time that he fingered the horrible ridged cicatrice, he could see the boundless ocean and the boundless blue sky from a wretched cranky canoe-shaped boat, in which certain Arab, Somali, Negro, and other gentlemen were proceeding all the way from near Berbera to near Aden with large trustfulness in Allah and with certain less creditable goods.

No one, no true Somali, that is, objected to a prod in the heart with a shovel-headed spear, a thwack in the head with a hammered slug, a sweep at the neck with a big swordbut to have a person sawing at your throat with weak and shaking hands is rotten....

To think that he should have come to his death over such a thing as a slave boy (albeit a Somali and no Hubshi).

And though they will well-nigh depopulate a country themselves, they will wax highly indignant if any of the survivors do a little slaying, even if they kill but a miserable slave, like this Somali dog.

Even an English hide-and-head-buying tripper and soi-disant big-game hunter knew a Zulu from a Hottentot, a Masai from a Wazarambo, and a Somali from a Nigger!

Explanation he vouchsafed in the words: "He called me, Moussa Isa of the Somali, a Hubshi!" Being of tender years and of insignificant stature he was condemned to flogging and seven years in a Reformatory School.

The Reformatory School nearest to Aden is at Duri in India, and thither, in spite of earnest prayers that he might go to hard labour in Aden Jail like a man and a Somali, was Moussa Isa duly transported and therein incarcerated.

Moussa Isa of the Somali was the out-cast of out-casts, the pariah of pariahs, prohibited from touching the untouchables, one of a class depressed below the depressed classesin short a Hubshi!

It had to learn the difference between a Somali and a Hubshi at any costthe cost of Moussa's life included.

The first time, Moussa replied with pitying magnanimity and all reasonableness: "I am not a Hubshi, but a Somali, which is quite differenteven as a lion is different from a jackal or a man from an ape".

There folk knew a Somali from a Hubshi; a gentleman of Afar and Galla stock, of Arab blood, Moslem tenets, and Caucasian descent, from a common nigger, a low black Ethiopian, an eater of men and insects, a worshipper of idols and ju-ju.

In Aden, men knew a Somali from a Hubshi as surely as they knew an Emir from a mere Englishman.

Here, in benighted, ignorant, savage India, the Dark Continent indeed, men knew not what a Somali was, likened him to a Negro, ranked him lower than a Hindu evencalled him a Hubshi in insolent ignorance.

What a splendid joke if the dog of a Brahmin who persistently insulted himeven after he had been shown his error and ignoranceshould be the unwitting means of his return to Adenwhere a Somali gentleman is recognized.

Take this Reformatorywhere else could a little Somali boy get such safety, peace, food, and sumptuous luxury; everything the heart could desire, in return for doing a little gardening?

The Brahmin's corpse should be the stepping-stone to higher things and the place where people knew a Somali from a Negro.

Yesthe Somali was taught drawing.

And at the back of all these budding artists and blossoming jail-birds, and in the same small desk sat the Brahmin youth andOh Merciful Allah!Moussa Isa, Somali.