‘Oh! come on! Let’s go back!’
The effect was overpowering. It seemed to me that the whole company half rose to their feet. Of the prayer that immediately followed, I only caught the opening sentence, ‘Father, we are coming back,’ for my attention was suddenly absorbed by Abe, the stage-driver, who was sitting next me. I could hear him swearing approval and admiration, saying to himself—
‘Ain’t he a clinker! I’ll be gee-whizzly-gol-dusted if he ain’t a malleable-iron-double-back-action self-adjusting corn-cracker.’ And the prayer continued to be punctuated with like admiring and even more sulphurous expletives. It was an incongruous medley. The earnest, reverent prayer, and the earnest, admiring profanity, rendered chaotic one’s ideas of religious propriety. The feelings in both were akin; the method of expression somewhat widely diverse.
After prayer, Craig’s tone changed utterly. In a quiet, matter-of-fact, businesslike way he stated his plan of organisation, and called for all who wished to join to remain after the benediction. Some fifty men were left, among them Nelson, Sandy, Lachlan Campbell, Baptiste, Shaw, Nixon, Geordie, and Billy Breen, who tried to get out, but was held fast by Geordie.
Graeme was passing out, but I signed him to remain, saying that I wished ‘to see the thing out.’ Abe sat still beside me, swearing disgustedly at the fellows ‘who were going back on the preacher.’ Craig appeared amazed at the number of men remaining, and seemed to fear that something was wrong. He put before them the terms of discipleship, as the Master put them to the eager scribe, and he did not make them easy. He pictured the kind of work to be done, and the kind of men needed for the doing of it. Abe grew uneasy as the minister went on to describe the completeness of the surrender, the intensity of the loyalty demanded.
‘That knocks me out, I reckon,’ he muttered, in a disappointed tone; ‘I ain’t up to that grade.’ And as Craig described the heroism called for, the magnificence of the fight, the worth of it, and the outcome of it all, Abe ground out: I’ll be blanked if I wouldn’t like to take a hand, but I guess I’m not in it.’ Craig finished by saying—
‘I want to put this quite fairly. It is not any league of mine; you’re not joining my company; it is no easy business, and it is for your whole life. What do you say? Do I put it fairly? What do you say, Nelson?’
Nelson rose slowly, and with difficulty began—
‘I may be all wrong, but you made it easier for me, Mr. Craig. You said He would see me through, or I should never have risked it. Perhaps I am wrong,’ and the old man looked troubled. Craig sprang up.
‘No! no! Thank God, no! He will see every man through who will trust his life to Him. Every man, no matter how tough he is, no matter how broken.’