Cupid in Africa Part 28

"Put the knot under the left ear, don't you?" asked Augustus.

"_I_ do," answered Vereker. "Some put it under the right. . . . I have seen it at the back. Looks bad, though. Depressin'. Bloke hangs his head. Mournful sight. . . ."

"Got any rope?" enquired Augustus.

"No! . . . How thoughtless of me! . . . Never mind-make up something with strips of bark. . . . Might let the bloke make his own-only himself to blame, then, if it broke and he met with an accident."

"I _have_ heard of suicides-and-people hanging themselves with their braces," observed Augustus.

"Wadego _shenzis_ don't have braces," replied Vereker.

"No, but Greene does. I'm perfectly sure he'd be delighted to lend you his. He's kindness itself. Or would you rather he were shot, Greene?

We must remember there's no blood about a hanging, whereas there's lots the other way-'specially if it's done by _askaris_ with Martinis. . . .

On the other hand, hanging lasts longer. I dunno _what_ to advise for the best. . . ."

"Suppose we try him first," suggested Bertram.

"Of course!" was the somewhat indignant reply. "I'm surprised at _you_, Greene. You wouldn't put him to the edge of the sword without a trial, would you?"

"No, Greene," added Vereker. "Not goin' to waste a good _shenzi_ like that. We're goin' to have a jolly good Court-Martial out of him before we do him in. . . . And I shall hang him, Clarence-rope or no rope."

"May I swing on his feet, Vereker?" begged Augustus. "_Do_ let me! . . .

Be a sport. . . ."

"Everything will be done properly and nicely," was the reply, "and in the best style. There will be no swinging on the prisoner's legs while _I_'m M.C. . . . Not unless the prisoner himself suggests it," he added.

"How'll we tell him of his many blessin's, and so on?" enquired Berners.

"There's an Arab blighter of Lindsay's who professes to know a tongue spoken by a porter who knows Wadego. The bloke talks to the porter in Wadego, the porter talks to the Arab in the Tongue, the Arab talks to Wavell in Arabic, and Wavell talks to us in any language we like-French, German, Swahili, Hindustani, Latin, Greek, American, Turkish, Portuguese, Taal or even English. He knows all those. . . ."

"Let's ask him to talk them all at once, while we smoke and quaff beakers of rum," suggested Augustus. "And I _say_-couldn't we torture the prisoner? I know lots of ripping tortures."

"Well, I'm not going to have him ripped," vetoed Vereker. "You gotter hand him over to the Provost-Marshal in good condition. . . Fair wear and tear of trial and incarceration allowed for, of course. . . . Bound to be _some_ depreciation, I know."

"What's 'to incarcerate' mean, exactly?" enquired Augustus.

"Same as 'incinerate.'"

"Can we do it to him by law?" asked Augustus.

"You read the Orders, my lad," replied Vereker. "On the notice-board in the Orderly Room. That post's the Orderly Room. Written and signed by the Station Staff Officer. And look up Field and General Court-Martials in the King's Regulations and you'll know what your Powers are."

"I say, Berners. Let me find you the least contrary of those turned sausages, and have it nicely fried for you," begged Augustus. "You'd hardly taste anything awkward about it if you had some lemon-peel done with it. Plenty of lemon-peel and some coco-nut. I'll find the peel I threw away this morning. . . . _Do_."

"This is very kind and thoughtful of you, Gussie. What's the idea?"

replied Berners.

"I want to propitiate you, Berners. You'll be President of the Court-Martial."

"And?"

"I want you to promise you won't have the prisoner found Guilty unless Vereker promises to let me swing on his feet. . . . I've _never_ once had the chance. . . . And now my chance has come. . . . And Vereker feels thwartful. . . . It's due to his having a boil-and no cushion with him. . . . Be a good soul, Berners. . . "

"Let's see the sausages," said the President-elect.

"That's done it," admitted Augustus, and dropped the subject with a heavy sigh.

Bertram noticed that, in spite of his flow of cheery nonsense, Augustus ate nothing at all and looked very ill indeed. He remembered a sentence he had read in a book on board the _Elymas_:

"Comedy lies lightly upon all things, like foam upon the dark waters.

Beneath are tragedy and the tears of time."

CHAPTER XVIII _Trial_

After breakfast Bertram attended Court, which was a table under a tree, and took his seat on the Bench, an inverted pail, as a Ruler and a Judge, for the first and last time in his life. He felt that it was a strange and terrible thing that he should thus be suddenly called upon to try a man for his life.

Suppose that his two fellow-judges, Berners and Clarence, disagreed as to the death-sentence, and he had to give his verdict, knowing that a man's life depended on it! . . .

A couple of _askaris_ of the King's African Rifles, police-orderlies of "Leesey" Lindsay's, brought in the prisoner. He was a powerful and decidedly evil-looking negro, clad in a striped petticoat. He had more of the appearance of furtive intelligence than is usual with _shenzis_ of his tribe. Bertram decided that he carried his guilt in his face and had trickster and traitor written all over it. He then rebuked himself for pre-judging the case and entertaining prejudice against an untried, and possibly innocent, man.

"Guilty," said Augustus Gus. "Who's coming for a walk?"

"I'm President of this Court," replied Berners. "Who asked you to open your head? If I'm not sure as to his guilt, I may consult you later. Or I may not."

"Look here, Berners-let's do the thing properly," was the reply.

"There's a Maxim-or is it a Hotchkiss-of English Law which says that a man is to be considered Guilty until he is proved to be Innocent.

Therefore we start fair. He is Guilty, I say. Now we've got to prove him Innocent. Do be a sport, and give the poor blighter a show."

"I b'lieve it's the other way about," said Berners.

"Oh, indeed!" commented Augustus. "You'd say the feller's innocent and then start in to prove him guilty, would you? . . . Dirty trick, I call it. Filthy habit."

Wavell appeared at the entrance to his tent, holding a green, silk-covered book in his hand. The cover was richly embroidered and had a flap, like that of an envelope, provided with strings for tying it down. It was a copy of the Koran, and on it all witnesses were sworn, repeating an oath administered by Wavell in Arabic. . . .

"Ready?" asked he of the President, and proceeded with great patience, skill and knowledge of languages and dialects, to interpret the statements of Wadegos, Swahilis, Arabs, and a.s.sorted Africans.

Occasionally it was beyond his power, or that of any human being, to convey the meaning of some simple question to a savage mind, and to get a rational answer.

For the prosecution, Lindsay, who was down with dysentery, had produced fellow-villagers of the accused, from each of whom Wavell obtained the same story.

Prisoner was enamoured of a daughter of the headman of the village, and, because his suit was dismissed by this gentleman, he had led a German raiding-party to the place, and, moreover, had shown them where hidden treasures were _cached_, and where fowls, goats, and cattle had been penned in the jungle, and where grain was stored. Also, he had "smelt out" enemies of the _Germanis_ among his former neighbours, wicked men who, he said, had led English raiding-parties into the country of the _Germanis_, and had otherwise injured them. These enemies of the _Germanis_ were all, as it happened, enemies of his own. . . . When this raiding-party of _askaris_, led by half a dozen _Germanis_, had burnt the village, killed all the villagers who had not escaped in time, and carried off all they wanted in the way of livestock, women, grain and gear, they had rewarded accused with a share of the loot. . . .

"Do they all tell the same tale in the same way, as though they had concocted it and learnt it by heart?" asked Bertram.

"No," replied Wavell. "I didn't get that impression."