“Face this way!” the lieutenant shouted at him.  “You are charged with being a deserter from German service.  Also with giving information to foreigners.  Also with serving foreigners in their effort to exploit the country, and with refusing to give proper answers when questioned by those in authority.  Do you understand?”

“No,” said Kazimoto in the most melancholy tone I ever heard from him.

“Are you a Nyamwezi?  Now don’t dare to lie to me!”

“Yes.”

“You were born in this country?”

“Yes.”

“Then you belong in this country!”

“I belong where my master takes me.  My spirit is good.  I am a true man,” Kazimoto answered.

“Your spirit is rotten!  You are a traitor!  What do you mean by talking to me of your master, you reptile!  Your master is the German government, of which His Majesty the Kaiser is supreme overlord!  There is a picture of your master!” He pointed with a thumb over his shoulder to the full-length atrocity in oils behind him.  “Salute it!”

The boy obeyed.

“Answer now!  Who is your master?”

Kazimoto hesitated.

“Answer, I order you!”

He turned and pointed a finger at Fred, who nodded.

“That English bwana is my master,” he said stoutly.  It was a forlorn hope, though.  He did not seem to believe that the statement of fact would do him any good.

Fred jumped to his feet.

“That is perfectly correct,” he said in English.  “The boy is my servant, engaged on British territory, under a contract for wages to be paid in English money.  He is to be paid off in British East at the end of my journey.”

“Who asked you to speak?” demanded the lieutenant angrily, sitting up like a startled scorpion.  “Do you not know this is a court?”

“It looks like a shambles!” Fred answered, glancing to right and left and indicating the victims of the whip writhing in the name of German justice.

“Shut up, you fool!” counseled Will in a stage whisper, but either Fred did not hear him, or was too worked up to care.

“Silence!  Sit down!”

“I warn you!” Fred answered.  “That boy has claimed British protection. 
 I shall see he has it!”

Then he sat down.  The lieutenant glared at Kazimoto, the glare changing to a cold grin as he realized how fully we were all at his mercy for the moment.

“You are sentenced,” he said, “to two hundred lashes for making impudent answers to the court, and to six months on the chain-gang for deserting from this country and entering foreign service.  Further evidence against you will be assembled in the meanwhile, and other charges against you will be tried on completion of the chain-gang sentence!”

“I protest!” shouted Fred, jumping up again.  “I give notice of appeal to whatever higher court there is.  I am ready to give bonds!”