The song was painted with insults in rainbow colours. The insinuation that Captain So-and-So kept up his private harem with the funds of the company was one of the most harmless, and with the assertion that he was an old monkey, the register of the regiment commander's sins only began.
At the top of their voices the "cafard" madmen shrieked this song of insubordination out into the still night, until the camp became lively. With many oaths the sentries tussled with the mad singers, and from out of the darkness bawling voices roared applause.
Such things were not taken seriously. The "singers" were bound to pegs in front of the guard-tent over the night, to give them a chance to cool down, and they had to join their companies at day-break--to march on.
When we got back to Sidi-bel-Abbès, our uniforms and our spirits were in sad condition....
An unpleasant occurrence : The last three coppers : The Roumanian Jew from Berlin : Monsieur Viaïsse : The Legion's atmosphere : The Cafard demoniacs : Bismarck's double : Krügerle's whim : The madness of Légionnaire Bauer : Brutal humour : A tragedy
In the interval between the terrible exertions of the great manoeuvre march and a period of hard work in the sewers of the Arab prison of Sidi-bel-Abbès, something I had long been dreading occurred. Even by changing my few gold pieces into the smallest of coppers, I could not spin them out eternally. One fine day the sum of my riches consisted of three thick, round copper pieces. Although big and heavy, they were not worth more than a few cents.
I lay stretched out on my bed, tired and vexed. Smith, who, being a bugler, was not obliged to waste his strength in cleaning Arab sewers, was chaffing me. He thought it a great joke to inquire with friendly solicitude about the unpleasant details of my work.
I did not like his raillery. Wishing for revenge, I remembered with grim humour that the state of my finances would be of a certain interest to my friend Smith.
Smith, lounging on his bed, muttered something about privileged sons of the Prophet--and inquired if the Arab convicts had been satisfied with my work?
He jumped up from his bed, looking at me aghast.
He was evidently thinking of the countless casks of wine lying stored in Sidi-bel-Abbès.... All at once his face cleared. He had found a way out of the difficulty.