r terrific dive for liberty, biting and kicking at his
captors, and finally lying on his back to scream as if the hot irons
Coutlass had recommended were being applied in earnest.

"What shall we do with the beast?" asked Fred. The hut was so full of
his infernal screaming that we could talk without his hearing us.

"Tie him up," I said. "If we let him go he'll run straight to
Schillingschen."

"Leave him here with Coutlass and me!" urged Brown. (He and Coutlass
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 circumstances 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 nobody 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.

"N