In reality Hans was putting up a most gallant struggle against temptation.
As I found out afterwards, Captain Robertson had been giving him strong drink on the sly, moved thereto by sympathy with a fellow toper.

Also he had shown him where, if he wanted it, he could get more, and Hans always wanted gin very badly indeed.

To leave it within his reach was like leaving a handful of diamonds lying about in the room of a thief.

This he knew, but was ashamed to tell me the truth, and thence came much trouble.
"You will stop here, Hans, look after the young lady and nurse your foot," I said sternly, whereon he collapsed with a sigh and asked for some tobacco.
Meanwhile Captain Robertson, who I think had been taking a stirrup cup to cheer him on the road, was making his farewells down in what was known as "the village," for I saw him there kissing a collection of half-breed children, and giving Thomaso instructions to look after them and their mothers.

Returning at length, he called to Inez, who remained upon the veranda, for she always seemed to shrink from her father after his visits to the village, to "keep a stiff upper lip" and not feel lonely, and commanded the cavalcade to start.
So off we went, about twenty of the village natives, a motley crew armed with every kind of gun, marching ahead and singing songs.