The all was slender enough. Unless he live by the ingenuity of his own
manufactures, or by thieving or intimidating the people of the country,
a French soldier has but barren fare and a hard struggle with hunger and
poverty; and it was the one murmur against him, when he was lowest in
the ranks, that he would never follow the fashion, in wringing out
by force or threat the possessions of the native population. The one
reproach, that made his fellow soldiers impatient and suspicious of
him, was that he refused any share in those rough arguments of blows
and lunges with which they were accustomed to persuade every victim
they came nigh to yield them up all such treasures of food, or drink, or
riches, from sheep's liver and couscoussou, to Morocco carpets and skins
of brandy and coins hid in the sand, that the Arabs might be so unhappy
as to own in their reach. That the fattest pullet of the poorest Bedouin
was as sacred to him as the banquet of his own Chef d'Escadron, let him
be ever so famished after the longest day's march, was an eccentricity,
and an insult to the usages of the corps, for which not even his daring
and his popularity could wholly procure him pardon.
But this defect in him was counterbalanced by the lavishness with which
his pay was lent, given, or spent in the very moment of its receipt. If
a man of his tribu wanted anything, he knew that Bel-a-faire-peur would
offer his last sous to aid him, or, if money were all gone, would sell
the last trifle he possessed to get enough to assist his comrade.
Pages:
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333