Adventures in Swaziland Part 22

"What next? What next?" the magistrate snapped.

"Then the first man demands that more men come and fight," continued the sergeant, "and there was a rush by the blacks to see who could get on the table. Then I brought my men in and arrested them both.

Entirely unashamed at being arrested, this man"--again indicating Sugden--"laughs out loud when I say the name of the king!"

It seemed that we were guilty of disturbing the peace and quiet of His Majesty's island of St. Lucia and were very reprehensible characters.

The lean magistrate regarded us with severe eye, and I am not surprised that he looked at us with suspicion. The voyage had not improved our looks much and we had come ash.o.r.e in much-worn "ducks."

In fact, we must have looked like a couple of beach-combers.

"You have heard the charge?" he snapped at us. "Guilty or not guilty?"

We were as guilty as could be, of course. Therefore we answered in one voice:

"Not guilty!"

The magistrate raised his eyebrows at our effrontery and then cleared his throat again.

"Then you'll have to stand trial," he said. "I shall admit you to bail. Five pounds each!"

We promptly produced the bail, and I think the "thin dash of vinegar,"

as Sugden christened him, was surprised that we had it. Certainly we did not look as though we had a s.h.i.+lling between us. After our pedigrees were taken, we were informed that we would be tried at "ten o'clock next Thursday morning."

Outside the court-room we found one of the s.h.i.+p's officers in a state of frenzy. It seems that he had been sent to get us, as the s.h.i.+p ought to have sailed several hours before.

"She's been blowing and blowing and blowing for you!" he informed us in an aggrieved tone, "The old man is fair beside himself with rage."

"Oh, that's what all the noise is about," Sugden innocently remarked.

Then he suggested that we take our time and stop at several places. He argued that so long as we kept the officer with us the captain would not dare to sail. But I vetoed this proposition, feeling that we had already run afoul of "His Majesty the King" and not caring to take another chance.

CHAPTER XIV

Obstinate stowaways--Free Town and a fight--Bay rum as a beverage--Sugden lets off smoke-bombs--Cape Town, a party, and some Anzacs--Oom Tuys advises haste--Through South Africa--Americans and Boers in Ermelo--Hurried visit to Swaziland for information--Mystery over the coronation--Royal gin for Labotsibeni--Debeseembie drinks and talks.

We were certainly unpopular with the skipper when we got back on board. The officers who had attended our fistic tournament had returned slightly the worse for wear, and, of course, their condition was laid at our door. In fact, we retired to our pallets on the p.o.o.p-deck feeling that we had not one friend on the s.h.i.+p, outside of the gunner, who was heavily subsidized. It was his job to feed us, and we tipped him liberally to get us the best there was. He earned his money, however.

At dawn the next morning there was a fine explosion--the captain fairly blew up. The chief officer had discovered two stowaways, and we were wakened by his marching them up to the captain's cabin. It seems it was the duty of the commanding officer of the s.h.i.+p to return these stowaways to the port where they slipped on board, and the rules made him responsible for their cost until he did so. This annoyed our worthy captain exceedingly and his language was more sultry than the weather, and that is saying a great deal. In his torrent of profanity the skipper included Dr. Sugden and myself, for it seems that he held us responsible for the stowaways getting aboard the s.h.i.+p.

While he relieved himself of all that bad language, the two stowaways, both negroes, stood silent, although there was a baleful gleam in their eyes. They were finally told off to do some work, but flatly refused to lift a finger. Then food was denied them until they did work, and the matter reached a deadlock. The captain finally decided to put into Free Town, in the Barbadoes, and turn them over to the authorities there after making arrangements for their return to St.

Lucia.

When the s.h.i.+p reached Free Town the captain gave strict orders that no one should be allowed ash.o.r.e, adding, "particularly those two doctors!" We did not like this, as Free Town is a pleasant place and we could have found relaxation there that would have broken the tedium of the voyage. We needed the break, too, for the captain had ordered that we should not be allowed to buy any more liquor after the events at St. Lucia.

However, we had commissioned the gunner to see what he could do for us and he had gone ash.o.r.e with "the old man." In a little while a busy motor-launch, with the Union Jack flying free, came chugging alongside with our worthy captain and six of the Free Town police.

They tumbled on board and announced to the stowaways that they were under arrest.

"We are, are we?" these worthies asked. "Well then, come and get us!"

They tore off their coats and s.h.i.+rts and waited for the attack. The police made no move, and I did not blame them. These two outcasts were the finest specimens of "fighting n.i.g.g.e.rs" I have ever seen. Their torsos were ribbed with muscle and they looked fit to fight for their lives. What was more, they seemed anxious to begin!

The police shuffled their feet, and I saw that they were afraid to tackle them. The stowaways saw it, too, and became c.o.c.ky. They turned on the captain and officers of the s.h.i.+p and let loose a flood of damaging language quite as strong as their splendid bodies.

Expurgated, it ran something like this:

"You white folks think 'cause you've got some gol' braid on yer coats that yu' kin run over us! Come on an' get us! If yu' wanter arrest us, come an' do it! Yu' aint got th' nerve! Yu're afraid, that's wot yu'

are! Come on an' fight, white men, come on!"

Not one of the officers or police moved. The stowaways were right; they were afraid. Then Sugden and I broke the tension by cheering the stowaways. Like us, they were the under dogs and we were for them. We cheered and applauded their defiance, and this proved too much for the forces of law and order.

There was a wild rush, and after a few st.u.r.dy blows the stowaways were overwhelmed by sheer force of numbers. When the flailing arms stopped, they were flat on the deck with about six men sitting on each. The irons were brought and clapped on them, and the last we saw of them was when they were hustled on board the launch.

While this party was going on the gunner had been busy on our behalf.

He had been unable to sneak away from the captain's gig when ash.o.r.e, but made up for it by doing business with the b.u.mboat men who came alongside. From one of these he bought two cases of bay rum, paying twenty cents a quart for it. This he smuggled down into our steerage and told us about it as soon as the smoke of battle had cleared away.

Now this bay rum is not meant for drinking, although the blacks of that part of the world consume great quant.i.ties of it. I have heard that it makes them wild, and I am not surprised. It did worse than that to Sugden and me.

We started drinking it as soon as we could, and before long we reached the semi-conscious state that made life bearable. From this we went into the second stage--that of hallucinations. We went practically crazy. Sugden insisted that he was a red squirrel and I believed that I was a wild cat. We became violent and were locked in the steerage.

However, they did not take our bay rum away.

Now the captain never visited our quarters, so he did not know of our plight until the end of the second day. Then he ordered that we be released. No sooner was the hatch taken off than Sugden tore up the ladder, crying out that "the wild cat" was after him. I was! Believing his a.s.sertion that he was a red squirrel, I chased him all over the boat, intent on killing him.

We dashed through the officers' quarters, the captain's cabin, across the decks, up on the bridge and down again, and even got into the engine-room in our mad chase. Every one on the s.h.i.+p followed us, roaring with laughter. It was the funniest thing they had ever seen.

Finally they captured us and brought us back to earth with buckets of sea-water.

The captain was so amused that he forgave our previous sins and became our friend. He confiscated the balance of the bay rum and put us on an allowance of one stiff drink of whiskey each evening. This helped, but it was not very much under the circ.u.mstances.

The next afternoon Sugden made a hit with the captain. The World War was not long over and the s.h.i.+p had a number of smoke-bombs which were supposed to be used in foiling U-boats. The gunner was in charge of them. Since they were no longer needed, the captain gave orders that they be thrown overboard.

The gunner, however, proved inexpert. He lighted several, and then dropped them over the stern so quickly that the fuse was extinguished without the bomb exploding. Sugden watched these manoeuvers with extreme disgust. At each failure his remarks became more insulting.

Finally he could stand it no longer--he had not yet fully recovered from the bay rum--and staggered up to the gunner.

"You're a fine gunner," he snorted. "Who ever heard of a gunner who couldn't make a smoke! Stand back and let an expert let 'em off!"

I was deathly afraid that he might have an accident, that one of the bombs would explode and kill him. The gunner had the same idea and hurriedly withdrew. The captain called to Sugden, but he paid no attention. He lighted the first bomb, held it for an interminable time, and dropped it over. It "boomed" as it struck the water and threw out the smoke-screen in most approved navy fas.h.i.+on. We all cheered, partly from relief that there had been no accident. Then Sugden let off all the rest of the bombs without a failure.

"Well, you're a little bit of all right, after all," the captain said.

"Come down to my cabin and I'll give you a real drink!"

From then on we had a pleasant trip. Our captain let bygones be bygones and we enjoyed the few remaining days enough to partly make up for the misery that had preceded them.

Crespinell and Rossman had arrived in Cape Town when we reached there, and came out in a motor-boat to meet us. We introduced them to our new friend, the captain, and he gave them a brief resume of our activities during the thirty-odd days of the voyage. He gave us credit for being two of the "rarest specimens" he had ever encountered.

"The next time I s.h.i.+p two such wild men as these," he said, "I'll move into the forecastle and give 'em my cabin! What's more, from now on I'm going to limit myself to one doctor a trip, and he won't be a Boer, either. These two devils did everything from start a menagerie on one case of bay rum to instigate a mutiny when we had some fighting stowaways on board."

Then he gave a romantic and none too flattering account of how we had been arrested in St. Lucia, and ended by informing my men that we were "fugitives from justice." This had not occurred to me; perhaps it is so and I shall find the funny black policeman waiting for me the next time I visit the island.