What That Trader Has Got To Do, Is To Be A "Devil Man." They Always
Kindly Said They Recognised Me
As one, which is a great compliment.
He must betray no weakness, but a character which I should describe
as
A compound of the best parts of those of Cardinal Richelieu,
Brutus, Julius Caesar, Prince Metternich, and Mezzofanti, the latter
to carry on the native language part of the business; and he must
cast those customers out, not only from his house; but from his
yard; and adhere to the "No admittance except on business"
principle. This causes a good deal of unpleasantness, and the
trader's nights are now cheered by lively war-dances outside his
stockade; the accompanying songs advertising that the customers are
coming over the stockade to raid the store, and cut up the trader
"into bits like a fish." Sometimes they do come - and then - finish;
but usually they don't; and gradually settle down, and respect the
trader greatly as "a Devil man"; and do business on sound lines
during the day. Over the stockade at night, by ones and twos,
stealing, they will come to the end of the chapter.
Moonlight nights are fairly restful for the bush trader, but when it
is inky black, or pouring with rain, he has got to be very much out
and about, and particularly vigilant has he got to be on tornado
nights - a most uncomfortable sort of weather to attend to business
in, I assure you.
The factory at Agonjo was typical; the house is a fine specimen of
the Igalwa style of architecture; mounted on poles above the ground;
the space under the house being used as a store for rubber in
barrels, and ebony in billets; thereby enabling the trader to hover
over these precious possessions, sleeping and waking, like a sitting
hen over her eggs.
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