Captain Jinks, Hero by Ernest Howard Crosby (story read aloud txt) 📕

“Were you, indeed?” cried Sam. “Do tell me all about those wars. They were such great affairs.”

“Yes, they were. Not much like this business here. Nothing could stop us in the Sudan, and when we dug up the Mahdi and threw his body away there was nothing left of the rebellion. I believe the best way to settle things here would be to dig up somebody⁠—Confusus, for instance. If there’s anything of that kind to be done our army could do it in style.”

“It must be a very effective means of subjugating people,” said Sam.

“Yes, and would you believe it? the natives objected to it. They asked us what we would think of it if they dug up our Queen. Just think of it! The impudent niggers! As if there was any similarity in the two cases.”

“Outrageous,” said Sam.

“And even at home and in Parliament, when our general was sitting in the gallery hearing them discuss how much money they would give him, some of the members protested against our digging the old fraud up. It was a handsome thing for the general to go there and face them down.”

“It showed great tact, and I may say⁠—delicacy,” said Sam.

“Yes, indeed,” said the captain. “That’s his strong point.”

“But I suppose that the war in South Africa was even greater,” said Sam.

“Rather. Why we captured four thousand of those Boers with only forty thousand men. No wonder all Anglia went wild over it. Lord Bobbets went home and they gave him everything they could think of in the way of honors. It was a fitting tribute.”

“The war is quite over there now, isn’t it?” asked Sam.

“Yes,” answered the captain, somewhat drily. “And so is yours in the Cubapines, I understand.”

“Yes,” said Sam. “I think the Cubapine war and the South African war are about equally over.”

“Do you see that lieutenant there between your friend and the parson?”

“Yes.”

“He got the Victorious Cross in South Africa. He saved a sergeant’s life under fire. You see his cross?”

“How interesting!” said Sam. “He must be a hero.”

“That chap with the mustache at the bottom of the table really did more once. He saved three men from drowning in a shipwreck in the Yellow Sea. He’s got a medal for it.”

“Why doesn’t he wear it, too?” asked Sam.

“Civilians never do,” said the captain. “It would look rather odd, wouldn’t it, for him to wear a lifesaving medal? You may be sure he keeps it locked up somewhere and never talks about it.”

“It is strange that civilians should be so far behind military men in using their opportunities,” said Sam.

“That old fellow with the long beard is Cope, the inventor of the Cope gun. He’s a wonder. He was out here in the employ of the Porsslanese Government. Most of their artillery was designed by him. What a useful man he has been to his country! First he invented a projectile that could go through any steel plate then known, and all the navies had to build new steel-clad ships on a new principle that he had invented to prevent his projectiles from piercing them. Then what does he do, but invent a new projectile that could go through that, and they had to order new guns for it and build new ships to withstand it. He’s done that four times. And he’s got a rifle now that will penetrate almost anything. If you put two hundred Porsslanese of the same height in a row it would go through all their heads at five hundred yards. I hope they’ll try the experiment before this affair is over.”

The major-general had by this time exhausted all possible subjects of conversation with his host and sat silent, and Sam felt obliged to turn his attention to him, and was soon engaged in relating his experience in the Cubapines. Meanwhile Cleary had been conversing with the brave young lieutenant at his side and the reverend gentlemen beyond him. They had been discussing the slaughter of the Porsslanese, the lieutenant sitting back from the table while his neighbors talked across him.

“I confess,” said the Rev. Mr. Parker, “that I am not quite satisfied with our position here. This wholesale killing of noncombatants is revolting to me. Surely it can not be Christian.”

“I have had some doubts about it too,” said the young man. “I don’t mind hitting a man that hits back. I didn’t object to the pig-sticking in South Africa, and I believe that man-hunting is the best of all sports; but this killing of people who don’t resist, and even smile in a sickly way while you do it and almost thank you⁠—it really does go against me.”

“Yes,” said Cleary, “perhaps there is something in that.”

“Oh, my dear young friend!” cried the clergyman, turning toward the lieutenant, “you don’t know what joy it gives me to hear you say that. I have spoken in this way again and again, and you are the first man I have met who agrees with me. Won’t you let your fellow officers know what you think? It will come with so much more force from a military man, and one of your standing as a V.C. Won’t you now tell this company that you think we are going too far?”

“Really, Doctor,” said the young man, blushing, “really, I think you exaggerate my importance. It wouldn’t do any good. Perhaps I have said a little more to you than I really meant. This champagne has gone to my head a little.”

“Just repeat what you said to us. I will get the attention of the table.”

“No, Doctor, for God’s sake don’t!” cried the lieutenant, laying his right hand on the missionary’s arm while he toyed with his cross with the other. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t the courage to say it. They would think I was crazy. I would be put in Coventry. I have no business to make suggestions when a general’s present.”

Mr. Parker sighed and did not return