Ten minutes later suddenly Will pointed toward the southward.
"Look! See what happens when the roofs of shanty-town take fire!" Flames went up from the dry grass roof of one of the rectangular Swahili huts.

Within thirty seconds the askaris on guard at the boma began firing their rifles in the air as fast as they could pull the trigger and reload.

Within two minutes the chain-gang was headed for jail, where it was locked behind doors, in order that every askari in Muanza might be free to pile arms and hurry to the fire.
It was not only askaris; the whole township turned out as to the circus, with Schubert and his long kiboko ruling the riot.

The other sergeants were in evidence, but quiet, imperturbable men compared to their feldwebel, plying their kibokos without wasting words, stirring the whole world within their reach into action--if not orderly and purposeful, action, at least.
Schubert climbed on a roof well to windward and safe from the sparks, and directed proceedings in a voice that out-thundered the mob's roar and crackling flames.

To illustrate his meaning he seized handsful of the thatch on which he stood and tore them out, to the huge discontent of the owner.