“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.’” The first native sworn was Rustum Khan, an old Mahomedan subadar. After saluting with deep respect the volume of his faith, he received it from the Moolah on the palms of his hands, holding it thus, with a look of profound veneration, whilst the regimental interpreter recited the form of the oath, which he repeated after him. The Hindoos, received the vessel containing the Ganges water in their hands, and were sworn to judge impartially in like manner. The trial now began. The prisoner, a poor little black devil of a drummer, was asked by the interpreter if he was guilty, or not guilty; to which he replied “_Jo up ka kooshee_” as interpreted by Tom, “whichever my lord pleases.” This _naïve_ reply made the superintending officer relax his judicial gravity. The interpreter also smiled. The stolid old subadars, however, could perceive nought but stupidity in it, evidently, and one of them angrily said to the prisoner, “_Guddah_ (ass), say one or the other.” Being, with the exception of a few words, wholly ignorant of the language, I could not, of course, follow the examination. The reader may, however, rest assured that he has not, in consequence, lost any information which it would be of much consequence for him to obtain.