fez.  Anybody in court may ask any questions he pleases, and in fact what we should call “cross-examine” a witness, but no one did so whilst I was present.  Every one listened attentively, giving a grunt of interest whenever Tevula made a point; and this manifestation and sympathy always seemed to gratify him immensely.  But it was plain that, whatever might be the decision of the minister, who listened closely to every word, asking now and then a short question—­which evidently hit some logical nail right on the head—­they would abide by it, and be satisfied that it was the fairest and most equitable solution of the subject.

Here is a resume of the first case, and it is a fair sample of the intricacies of a Kafir lawsuit:  Our friend Tevula possesses an aged relative, a certain aunt, called Mamusa, who at the present time appears to be in her dotage, and consequently her evidence is of very little value.  But once upon a time—­long, long ago—­Mamusa was young and generous:  Mamusa had cows, and she gave or lent—­there was the difficulty—­a couple of heifers to the defendant, whose name I can’t possibly spell on account of the clicks.  Nobody denies that of her own free will these heifers had been bestowed by Mamusa on the withered-looking little old man squatting opposite, but the question is, Were they a loan or a gift?  For many years nothing was done about these heifers, but one fine day Tevula gets wind of the story, is immediately seized with a fit of affection for his aged relative, and takes her to live in his kraal, proclaiming himself her protector and heir.  So far so good:  all this was in accordance with Kafir custom, and the narration of this part of the story was received with grunts of asseveration and approval by the audience.  Indeed, Kafirs are as a rule to be depended upon, and their minds, though full of odd prejudices and quirks, have a natural bias toward truth.  Two or three years ago Tevula began by claiming, as heir-at-law, though the old woman still lives, twenty cows from the defendant as the increase of these heifers:  now he demands between thirty and forty.  When asked why he only claimed twenty, as nobody denies that the produce of the heifers has increased to double that number, he says naively, but without hesitation, that there is a fee to be paid of a shilling a head on such a claim if established, and that he only had twenty shillings in the world; so, as he remarked with a knowing twinkle in his eye, “What was the use of my claiming more cows than I had money to pay the fee for?” But times have improved with Tevula since then, and he is now in a position to claim the poor defendant’s whole herd, though he generously says he will not insist on his refunding those cows which do not resemble the original heifers, and are not, as they were, dun and red and white.  This sounded magnanimous, and met with grunts of approval until the blear-eyed defendant remarked, hopelessly, “They are all of those colors,” which changed