Peter built up his fire. Suddenly he felt the stranger’s eyes were fixed on him.
“Who gave you your land?” the stranger asked.
“Mine! Why, the Chartered Company,” said Peter.
The stranger looked back into the fire. “And who gave it to them?” he asked softly.
“Why, England, of course. She gave them the land to far beyond the Zambezi to do what they liked with, and make as much money out of as they could, and she’d back ‘em.”
“Who gave the land to the men and women of England?” asked the stranger softly.
“Why, the devil! They said it was theirs, and of course it was,” said Peter.
“And the people of the land: did England give you the people also?”
Peter looked a little doubtfully at the stranger. “Yes, of course, she gave us the people; what use would the land have been to us otherwise?”
“And who gave her the people, the living flesh and blood, that she might give them away, into the hands of others?” asked the stranger, raising himself.