"Leave him here with Coutla.s.s and me!" urged Brown. (He and Coutla.s.s had grown almost friendly since getting drunk together on the native beer.)

"I recommend," said Will, "that we take the law in our own hands--"

The Baganda ceased screaming and listened. For some reason he suspected Will of being the deciding factor in our councils--perhaps because Will had said least.

"--take the law in our own hands, and thrash him soundly. Later on we can report what we have done to the British government, and ask for condonation under the circ.u.mstances or pay whatever piffling fine they care to impose for the sake of appearances. The point is, there's no court of law in these parts to hand him over to, and he needs punishing."

"I agree," said Fred. "Let's thrash him to begin with."

"Let's thrash him," went on Will, "as thoroughly as we've seen his friends the Germans do the job!"

"Both sides!" agreed Brown.

"Oh, no, no, no! You can not do that, gentlemen!"

"Lay him out!" ordered Fred. "Let's begin on him. Who shall beat him first?"

At a nod from Fred our porters stretched him face downward on the dry dung floor, and knelt on his arms and legs. One of them staffed a good handful of the dry dung into his mouth to stop his yelling.

"Of course," said Will, rather slowly and distinctly, "if he told us about Schillingschen, we'd have to let him off. Let's hope he holds his tongue, for I never wanted to flog a man so much in all my life!"

The most palpable absurdity at the moment was that there was nothing in the hut to beat him with. There were dozens of strips of the recently shot hippo hide hanging in the sun outside to dry, with stones tied to the end of each, to keep them taut and straight, but n.o.body made a move to bring one in.

"Take off his loin-cloth!" ordered Fred. "It won't hurt him enough with that thing on!"

The Baganda spat the cow-dung from his mouth and struggled violently.

"Oh, no, no!" he shouted. "I will tell! I will tell everything!"

"Too late now!" said Will jubilantly.

"No, gentlemen, no! Not too late! I tell all--I tell quickly! Only listen! Bwana Schillingschen will shoot me if he knows! He is very bad man--very kali--very fierce--and oh, too clever! You must protect me!"

He could hardly get the words out, for the knees of our porters pinned him down, and his chin was pressed hard on the floor.

"I ordered that loin-cloth removed!" was all Fred commented. One of the porters attended to the task, and the Baganda hurried with his tale, drawing in breath in noisy gasps like a man with asthma because of the weight of his captors on him and the strained position of his neck.

"Bwana Schillingschen is sending me and many other men--not all Baganda, but of many tribes--to go through all parts and say Islam is the only good religion--all Germans are high-priests of Islam--soon the Germans are coming with great armies to destroy the British and all other foolish people who have not accepted Islam as their creed! All are to get ready to receive the Germans."

"Where is Schillingschen now?" demanded Fred.

"Beyond Mumias."

"How far beyond Mumias?"

"Who knows? He is marching."

"In which direction? What for?"

"To Mount Elgon. I do not know what for."

"How do you know he is going to Mount Elgon?"

"He told me to go there and find him after my work is done."

"How long were you to continue at what you call your work?"

"A month or five weeks."

"So he expects to stay a long time up there?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I do not know."

"Has he many loads with him?"

"Very many provisions for a long time."

"Guns?"

"Several. I do not know how many. He gives guns to some of his men when he gets to where the government will not know about it."

"How many men has he?"

"Not many. Ten, I think."

"How can they carry all those loads?"

"He brought a hundred porters from Kisumu to Mumias, and there bought more than forty donkeys, sending the porters back again."

"Then are the men he has with him his own?"

"Yes."

"From German East?"

"Yes."

"What orders did he give you besides to tell these lies about German conquest?"

"None.

"Pa.s.s me that whip!" ordered Fred. There was no whip, but the Baganda could not know that.

"He gave the same order to all of us," he yelled. "We are to stay out a month or five weeks unless we meet white men. If we meet white men we are to discover the white men's plans by talking with their servants, and then hurry to him and report."