Turning the grinning jingal
On to the howling crew.
The Jemadar's flanking-party
Butchered the folk who flew.

Long was the morn of slaughter,
Long was the list of slain,
Five score heads were taken,
Five score heads and twain:
And the men of the First Shikaris
Went back to their grave again,

Each man bearing a basket

Red as his palms that day, Red as the blazing village —

The village of Pabengmay.

And the "drip-drip-drip" from the baskets Reddened the grass by the way.

They made a pile of their trophies

High as a tall man's chin,

Head upon head distorted,

Set in a sightless grin, Anger and pain and terror

Stamped on the smoke-scorched skin.

Subadar Prag Tewarri

Put the head of the Boh

On the top of the mound of triumph,
The head of his son below,

With the sword and the peacock-banner
That the world might behold and know.

Boh: Burmese village headman.

The Grave of the Hundred Head

Thus the samádh was perfect,
Thus was the lesson plain
Of the wrath of the First Shikaris
The price of a white man slain;
And the men of the First Shikaris
Went back into camp again.

Then a silence came to the river,
A hush fell over the shore,
And Bohs that were brave departed,
And Sniders squibbed no more;
For the Burmans said

That a kullah's head

Must be paid for with heads five score.

There's a widow in sleepy Chester
Who weeps for her only son;
There's a grave on the Pabeng River,
A grave that the Burmans shun,
And there's Subadar Prag Tewarri
Who tells how the work was done.

Kullah: A foreign white man,

THE OVERLAND MAIL

(Foot-Service to the Hills.)

In the name of the Empress of India, make way,
O Lords of the Jungle, wherever you roam.
The woods are astir at the close of the day –
We exiles are waiting for letters from Home.
Let the robber retreat - - let the tiger turn tail
In the Name of the Empress, the Overland Mail !

-

With a jingle of bells as the dusk gathers in,

He turns to the foot-path that heads up the hill The bags on his back and a cloth round his chin,

And, tucked in his waist-belt, the Post-Office bill : "Despatched on this date, as received by the rail, Per runner, two bags of the Overland Mail."

Is the torrent in spate? He must ford it or swim. Has the rain wrecked the road? He must climb by the cliff.

Does the tempest cry "Halt"? What are tempests to him?

The Service admits not a "but" or an "if."

While the breath's in his mouth, he must bear with

out fail,

In the Name of the Empress, the Overland Mail.

The Overland Mail

From aloe to rose-oak, from rose-oak to fir,
From level to upland, from upland to crest,

From rice-field to rock-ridge, from rock-ridge to spur, Fly the soft sandaled feet, strains the brawny brown chest.

From rail to ravine- to the peak from the vale-
Up, up through the night goes the Overland Mail.

There's a speck on the hillside, a dot on the road
A jingle of bells on the foot-path below -
There's a scuffle above in the monkey's abode
The world is awake, and the clouds are aglow.
For the great Sun himself must attend to the hail :
"In the name of the Empress, the Overland Mail!

THE UNDERTAKER'S HORSE

How can he

"To-tschin Shu is condemned to death. drink tea with the Executioner?"— Japanese Proverb.

The eldest son bestrides him,

And the pretty daughter rides him,
And I meet him oft o' mornings on the Course;
And there wakens in my bosom

An emotion chill and gruesome

As I canter past the Undertaker's Horse.

Neither shies he nor is restive,
But a hideously suggestive

Trot, professional and placid, he affects;
And the cadence of his hoof-beats

To my mind, this grim reproof beats : "Mend your pace, my friend, I'm coming. Who's the next?"

Ah! stud-bred of ill-omen,

I have watched the strongest go

Of pith and might and muscle

-

men

at your heels,

Down the plantain-bordered highway
(Heaven send if ne'er be my way !),

In a lacquered box and jetty upon wheels.