First they called a few township cases.  A drunken Muhammedan was fined five rupees, and a Hindu was ordered to remove his garbage heap before noon.  Three natives were ordered to the chain-gang for a week for fighting, and a Masai charged with stealing cattle was remanded.  Then my case was called, very solemnly, by a magistrate scarcely any older than myself.

The police officer acted as prosecutor.  He stated that “acting on information received” he had proceeded to the hotel.  Outside of which he saw a buck hanging (buck produced in evidence); that he had entered the hotel, found me at breakfast, and that I had not denied having shot the buck.  He called his two colored askaris to prove that, and they reeled off what they had to say with the speed of men who had been thoroughly rehearsed.  Then he put the German on the stand, and Schillingschen, with a savage glare at me, turned on his verbal artillery.  He certainly did his worst.

“This morning,” be announced, after having been duly sworn on the Book, “that young man whose name I do not know approached my tent while I was dressing.  The sound of a rifle being fired had awakened me earlier than usual.  He carried a rifle, and I put two and two together and concluded he had shot something.  Not having seen him ever before, and he standing before my tent, I asked him his name.  He refused to tell me, and that made me suspicious.  Then came my four boys carrying a buck, which they assured me they had seen him shoot.  I asked him whether he had a license to shoot game, and he at once threatened to shoot me if I did not mind my own business.  Therefore, I sent a note to the police at once.”

His four boys were then put on the stand in turn, and told their story through an interpreter.  Their words identical.  If the interpreter spoke truth one account did not vary from the next in the slightest degree, and that fact alone should have aroused the suspicion of any unprejudiced judge.

Having the right to cross-examine, I asked each in turn whether the rifle I had brought with me to court was the same they had seen me using.  They asserted it was.  Then I recalled the German and asked him the same question.  He also replied in the affirmative.  I asked him how he knew.  He said he recognized the mark on the butt where the varnish had been chafed away.  Then I handed the hunting knife I had borrowed from to the police officer and demanded that he have the bullet cut out of the buck’s carcass.  The court could not object to that, so under the eyes of at least fifty witnesses a flattened Mauser bullet was produced.  I called attention to the fact that my rifle was a Lee-Enfield that could not possibly have fired a Mauser bullet.  The court was young and very dignified—­examined the bullet and my rifle—­and had to be convinced.

“Very well,” was the verdict on that count, “it is proved that you did not shoot this particular buck, unless the police have evidence that you used a different rifle.”