Shattuck, C.C. and R.M., was not a genial type of Civil servant, in that
he was cold and short of manner, and always intensely official.
Moreover, he was popularly credited with a strong native bias, which
alone was sufficient to constitute him a round peg in a square hole, in
a frontier magistracy such as Fort Lamport. Personally, he was a
middle-aged man with a high bald forehead, and wearing a light full
beard--would have been a good-looking one but for a normally acid
expression of countenance.
Poor George stood limply in the dock, all the cheek taken out of him, as
Brian and I had laughingly told him, as we tried all we knew to hearten
him up just before he was placed there. Indeed, there were not wanting
those who thought ill of the magistrate's curt refusal of our attorney's
application to allow him to stand beside his father throughout the
preliminary examination, on account of his youth.
"I cannot make such exceptions as that, Mr Pyle," had been the answer.
"Had it been the case of a native no such application would have been
made."
This, by the way, was the sort of remark which did not precisely tend to
enhance Shattuck's popularity.
The Courthouse was a dingy, stuffy little enclosure, and it was crowded
to overflowing, the back part of the room, usually occupied by natives,
being closely packed with dark faces and rolling eyeballs; but scattered
among the townspeople was a large number of stock farmers, many of whom
had travelled considerable distances in order to render the Mattersons a
kind of moral support.
The first called was the District Surgeon, who made a post-mortem of the
two bodies. The deceased, he deposed, were boys of about fifteen or
sixteen, as far as he could judge. Then he proceeded to technical
detail, such as the number of shot-wounds in each, when and where
placed, and so forth. As to the other two who were wounded, he, the
District Surgeon, could not say they were out of danger yet. Their
injuries were undoubtedly severe.
Then followed, severally, the three or four boys who had been in the
company of those shot, and at the time. These gave their version of the
affair pretty much as George had given his. He had abused them for
being there, they said, and ordered them away. They laughed at him, and
he called out that if they did not go at once he would shoot them. He
was pointing his gun at them at the time, and the next thing they knew
was that it went off and four of them were lying on the ground. The
remainder ran away.
The tale of each tallied, but Pyle, the attorney who was watching the
case on behalf of George, after a bit of a wrangle with the Court
interpreter as to the exact shade of meaning which the order to move on
would or would not bear in the native vernacular, fastened upon two
points in cross-examination. One was the distance between the slayer
and slain, but there was no room for doubt here. He was on the top of
the cliff while they were beneath it. But it was not a high one. How
high? As high as the Court room?--Higher, perhaps twice as high.
Obviously any one shooting at that short distance would be shooting to
kill, not merely to frighten. Even a boy who was accustomed to
firearms, like George was, and however careless, could be under no
mistake on that head. This to dispose of any idea that he had intended
merely to "pepper" the deceased without intent seriously to wound.
The other point upon which our attorney harped was the demeanour of the
accused. Was he angry when he ordered them away?--Yes. He said they
were spoiling his hunt. Did they seriously think he meant to shoot them
when he threatened to?--Well, they didn't know. But if anybody points a
gun at you and you think he means to shoot you, you don't stand still
and laugh at him?--_Whau_! They hadn't thought of it in that light.
No, they supposed he had not intended to shoot. Then it had been an
accident?--Yes, they supposed so.
All this was put by Pyle to the witnesses in due order, and they were
unanimous in their answers. Pyle was radiant. During the slight
commotion of finding the next witness he leaned back and whispered to
us--
"He'll be discharged. Even Shattuck can't send him for trial on top of
that admission."
All the same, we were not quite so sure.
Then was led a good deal of Kafir evidence, that of parents and other
relatives of the dead boys, but this dealt mainly with identification,
and was of little or no value for or against our side. It was tediously
drawn out too by reason of the interpreting, and was not completed by
the time the Court adjourned for lunch.
"Buck up, old chap," said Pyle, going over to poor George, who was not
allowed to leave with us. "Buck up. You'll be having it with your
governor next grub time."
"Thanks, Mr Pyle, but I don't believe I shall," was the doleful reply
as he was taken into the chief constable's room to devour some
sandwiches which Beryl had sent him.
As we passed out of the dingy hall into the glare of the sunlight, the
contrast was a relief. It was good to be out in the open air again, but
the contrast was sharper as we thought of the poor boy we had just left.
What if imprisonment, even for a comparatively short time, was before
him?
The native end of the Courthouse had emptied out its malodorous crowd,
but this was nothing to the number of those who had been unable to gain
admission, for to-day the whole township seemed to grow Kafirs, who had
come in from near and far by reason of the excitement of the case. Some
were squatting around in groups, lustily discussing it; others lounging
around the general stores; while others again were shaping a course for
the nearest canteen. All had sticks, and not a few a pair of them.
"The sooner they pass a bye-law against carrying kerries in the streets
the better," said Brian, as we walked over to the hotel. "There are
enough of these chaps here to-day to take the town if they made up their
minds. Hullo!"
The last was evoked by the sound of a great voice haranguing one of the
groups we were passing. Looking round, we recognised Sibuko.
This pestilent savage was squatting on his haunches, holding forth
volubly, emphasising his points with a flourish of his kerrie in the
air, or bringing it down with a whack on the ground. But to me he was
of secondary interest beside a face in the group that caught my eye.
"Brian, twig that chap three doors off from Sibuko," I said hurriedly.
"That's the one who was going to cut my throat in the cave that morning.
By Jove! I wonder if he remembers the knock-out I gave him. I
wouldn't mind repeating it either."
"Well, you can't--not here and now. In the first place, there are too
many of them; in the next, Shattuck would fine you about twenty pounds;
and thirdly, we don't want to stir up that stew over again."
The hotel was pretty full, and the first person to catch my eye as we
entered the dining-room, rather late, was that infernal Trask, who had
calmly appropriated the seat next to Beryl, and which I had mentally
marked out for myself. Moreover, he was in train of trying to be
excessively funny, which was his way of keeping everybody's spirits up.
"Hallo, Holt," he sang out. "Got your seat, I'm afraid. We'd given you
up. Plenty of room down there, old chap. By the way, how are things
going?"
"Well, we think," I answered curtly, moving to the vacant part at the
far end of the room.
"Ha-ha! Holt seems a bit raggy to-day about something," I distinctly
heard Trask say. "What an uncertain tempered Johnny he is."
But I did not hear Beryl's reply, and--I should have liked to.
We had to hurry back to court again, and, the native evidence concluded,
Brian was called to the witness-box. He deposed to George's return home
directly after the tragedy, and how he and I were the first to hear the
boy's account of the same, and from that, his first account, he had
never swerved in any detail. Also how he himself had proceeded to the
scene of the tragedy in the hope of being of some aid. Pyle then
questioned him about the accused's disposition. Was he inclined to be
careless with firearms?
No, Brian didn't think he was. All boys were more or less careless
about most things. Whereat a titter ran through the crowd.
Was the accused of a mischievous disposition?
"Not more than most other boys of his age." And at this the titter
became a laugh, causing the magistrate, whose official soul was
scandalised, to glance up sharply.
Was he of a passionate or vindictive disposition?
"Not in the least," answered Brian decisively. "I am as convinced that
the whole affair was a sheer accident--the thoughtless pointing of a gun
at anybody I don't defend--as I am that I stand here at this moment."
A murmur of applause greeted this remark, and then Brian being done
with, I was invited to take his place, but as all that was wanted from
me was a mere confirmation of George's first narrative of the affair, I
soon got down again.
Septimus Matterson followed. He was very much affected, but gave his
evidence in a sensible straightforward manner that was worthy of all
praise. He told of the irruption of indignant natives on to his place,
but without any rancour or ill-will. As for the accident, no one
regretted and deplored it more than he did, unless it was his
unfortunate son, and he fully intended, according to Kafir custom in the
matter of homicide, to make liberal compensation to the relatives of the
slain boys. As to which he would be glad if the magistrate would allow
this to be made known by the interpreter for the satisfaction of the
natives at the back of the court.
He had always lived on friendly terms with his Kafir neighbours, he went
on when the hum of applause that greeted the last announcement had
subsided, and hoped always to do so, in spite of this deplorable
accident; several of their chiefs, too, were well known to and esteemed
by him and his, and now in this case he had been the first to surrender
up his own son to justice.
"That will do, Mr Matterson," said Pyle hurriedly, seeing signs of an
utter breakdown. And he beckoned him from the box.
Then he began a fervid appeal to the Bench. If all the testimony they
had just listened to was worth a jot, he said, it was clear as clear
could be that the case was not one of culpable homicide or of
manslaughter, but of accidental death. The evidence of the native
witnesses, fair and straightforward as, to their great credit, it had
been, made this way, even more if possible than that of the relatives
and friends of the accused. The only eyewitnesses of the tragedy,
besides the accused, had frankly admitted when it was put fairly to
them, that the lamentable and deplorable affair must have been an
accident.
Then he went on to enlarge upon the terrible mental punishment this
boy--this mere child--had already undergone, a consciousness which would
last far into his after and maturer life, of what one act of
carelessness had involved; and having expatiated thus and at some
length, concluded by pathetically urging his worship to discharge the
accused, and not to add further to his own sufferings and to those of
his sorrowing relatives.
There was dead silence as the attorney ended this appeal. We, and
indeed all in the room, took for granted that it would bear fruit, and
that George's discharge would follow. But we reckoned without Shattuck.
"As Mr Pyle has observed," began the magistrate, "this is a painful and
deplorable case. Even an accident may have its culpable features,
rendering its perpetrator amenable to the law. Here two lives have been
sacrificed owing to a most culpable piece of thoughtless bravado on the
part of the accused, and I should not be doing my duty in summarily
discharging him. It is a case for a judge and jury to decide, and the
accused stands committed to the next Circuit Court here."
Then the formality of asking him if he wished to make a statement being
gone through, and having been duly cautioned, George, instructed by the
attorney, repeated, "It was an accident," and in a scrawling, shaky,
schoolboy hand signed his statement.
Then Pyle applied that bail should be granted. There was plenty of
substantial security available, he added. And at his words at least a
dozen men stood up. But the next words that fell from the Bench were
even a greater thunderbolt to us than the decision to commit.
"I cannot grant bail, Mr Pyle."
"Not grant bail, your worship?"
"No. Not in a case of this nature."
"But there's no more substantial man in the district than the boy's
father, your worship."
"I am far from denying it. But--I cannot grant bail."
Quite an angry murmur ran through the audience at this. But the
magistrate merely looked up.
"Several persons here are committing a very distinct contempt of court,"
he observed coldly. "Remove the prisoner."
The poor little chap kept up bravely till he was out of sight. Then he
broke down and fairly howled.
To do Shattuck justice, his apparent hard-heartedness was not without
motive, for on the rising of the Court--that is to say immediately, for
there were no more cases that day--he asked us to step into his office.
"I am very grieved, Mr Matterson, over the course I have been obliged
to take," he began, stiffly and constrainedly, "but I fully believe I am
serving your best interests in doing as I have done. If the boy were
given back to you now, would not all the Kafirs around, and Kuliso's
people in particular, at once jump to the conclusion that justice had
not been done, and that there was one law for the black and another for
the white? In short, I believe his life would be in hourly danger.
Their demonstration on your farm seems to point that way, doesn't it?
Well now, if they know he is here in prison--I am not going to have him
put in an ordinary cell, by the way--they will be to that extent
satisfied, and it will give any strong feelings time to die down a bit.
The case is out of my hands now. The records will be forwarded
immediately to the Solicitor-General, and of course it rests with him
whether the matter goes any further."
There was sound sense in this, and indeed the magistrate had shown a
consideration we had not expected from him. So we parted good friends,
and rather arriving at the conclusion that Shattuck was not such a bad
sort of fellow after all.