“I dare say,” said I, “from what I have seen, that this is true enough.”
“A gentleman up the country, for example,” continued Tom, “some time ago, wished to introduce the use of the wheelbarrow into his garden, with other English improvements; when next he went there, he found the coolie, or gardener’s assistant, to his astonishment, carrying the wheelbarrow on his head, with a load of gravel. Why, a week ago, I gave my vagabond bawurchee (cook), whom, you know, I sent to the right about yesterday, a tin flour dredger, that I might be spared the mortification of having my food unnecessarily manipulated. The very next time I went to the bawurchee khana (cook house), I caught the villain taking the flour in pinches out of the perforated head of my dredger (as one would take a pinch out of a snuff-box) and sprinkling it over the cutlet. Ah! I fear that nature designed natives and jackasses to be managed by the cudgel!”
“Why, that is Captain Marpeet’s principle to a T,” said I. “Sound thrashings, according to him, with some races, are meant to answer the purpose of sound reasonings with others; it requires caution, however, in applying that principle. For example, it would be far from safe to try it on some of those big-calved fellows one sees behind the coaches at home,—eh, Tom?”
“You’re right, Frank—you’re right; I see the drift of your remark. It does seem unmanly to thrash those who cannot and will not retaliate. But they’re confoundly stupid and provoking; and your crouching spaniel always invites a kick.”
By the time we had terminated our “aside,” the native officers had saluted, and after some little fuss and rattling of their huge sabres, had settled down into a quiescent state, each man in his own proper chair, and wearing his hat cum privilegio as bravely as my Lord Kinsale himself.
The superintending officer, a smart young Light Bob, was in readiness with his recording apparatus—his foolscap, and his pen and ink. The interpreter opened his book, containing the forms of oath to be administered to the assembled Christians, Mahomedans, and Hindoos, all cordially united to administer the common right of every creed and colour—justice.
The black-bearded Moolah stood by with the Koran, wrapped in many a fold of linen, to guard it from the polluting touch or look of the infidel, whilst the regimental brahmin, his forehead marked with bars of ochre and pigment, indicative of his sanctity, was also in attendance, holding in his hands a brazen vessel, filled with the Gunja jhull, or Ganges water, in which was immersed a sprig of (as I was told) the sacred toolsie. On these two symbols, or foundations of their respective faiths, the Mussulmans and Hindoos are sworn.
The superintending officer now directed the prisoner to be brought in, and an orderly sepoy immediately called out “Aundo Bridgemaum!”
“What does he mean by that?” I inquired.
“He means,” said Tom, “‘bring in the prisoner,’ bridgemaum being the native way invariably of pronouncing the English word ‘prisoner.’”