“But, Alii,” she replied, “this man is a very good man. He is a fine fighter, and a leader among the men of his family. This black boy was no good. Is it right that a good man be killed just because a bad black boy is killed?”
“A life for a life, Mary,” Mr. Lee replied firmly. “That is the white man’s law.”
The next day the judges gave their decision. It was that the native was guilty of murder and must be hung.
The midshipmen were passing the jail a few days after the sentence had been given. They saw the prisoner squatting quietly within the doorway of the prison, talking unconcernedly with his policeman guard.
“I feel sorry for that poor chap,” Sydney said sadly. “He’s a victim of white interference. Why should we force our laws upon these savages? According to his method of thinking, he has done no more than step on a cockroach, and he can’t see why we make so much fuss about it. Anyway, he doesn’t seem to be worrying—nature has omitted nerves in his make-up.”
Phil had drawn near and now spoke a few words to the condemned man, who smiled affably and pointed gleefully into the next room, where several natives were going through some mysterious looking pantomime.
“Go ahead; don’t mind us, Johnny,” Phil exclaimed as the chief of police and his assistants stopped their performance and glanced sheepishly at the midshipmen.
“By George!” Sydney exclaimed in horror. “A rehearsal before the principal.”
One policeman was carefully greasing a wicked looking rope with a knot and noose at one end. Three others were practicing pinioning and “turning off”[33] the culprit. One, to make the scene realistic to their admiring audience, was chained and placed in the corner of the room. The other two then would approach with straps in their hands, knock off the shackles from the supposed condemned man and quickly pinion him. Then the three would march slowly to the middle of the room. They adjusted an imaginary noose, drew on a real black cap over the make-believe prisoner’s head, adjusted the straps and then at a sharp word of command, all but the make-believe condemned man stepped smartly aside, and then one went through the motion of springing the trap upon which the blindfolded policeman was supposed to stand. Johnny Upolu told the midshipmen proudly that they had practiced it over a hundred times already, and hoped that it would be a sight worth seeing, and advised them not on any account to miss the real hanging.
The prisoner understood sufficient English to understand and smiled, adding his wish that they should not miss the show.