They came running. He could not speak twenty words of their language, but he made them line up with a movement of his arm.
Then he addressed them in a perfectly unprintable speech. It was delivered in unshod American--a language he had not spoken for years. It took in each individual of the whole gang, it told them they were dogs and sons of dogs, killers of men, unmentionable carrion, cayotes, kites, and that he would have hanged them each and individually with his own hands (and I believe by some legerdemain of strength he would), but that they were without hearts, souls or intellect, not responsible creatures, tools of villains that he, Adams, would expose and get even with yet.
Furthermore, that if by a look or movement they disobeyed his orders, he would make them sweat tears and weep blood, so help him God. Amen.
They understood what he said. At least they understood the gist of it. They had found a new and angry master, and not an eye was raised when Adams stood silent; some looked at their toes and some at the ground, some looked this way, some that, but none at the big, ferocious man, with three weeks' growth of beard, standing before them and, literally, over them.
Then he chose two of them and motioned them to follow to the guest house. There he brought them into the sleeping room and pointed to the body of Meeus, motioning them to take it up and carry it out. The men rolled their eyes at the sight of the _Chef de Poste_, but they said no word; one took the head, the other the feet, and between them they carried the burden, led by their new commander, through the dwelling room, across the veranda and then across the yard.
The rest of the soldiers were in a group near the gate. When they saw the two men and their burden, they set up a chattering like a flock of magpies, which, however, instantly ceased at the approach of Adams.
He pointed to the two mattocks which he had placed against the wall. They understood what he meant; the last _Chef de Poste_ had shot himself in the presence of the District Commissioner, and they had dug his grave.
"Here," said Adams, stopping and pointing to a spot at a convenient distance from the walls.
When the body was buried, Adams stood for a second looking at the mound of earth, wet and flattened down by blows of the spades.