remaining to him.
Alvez did not intend to have his merchandise injured. Then, he was of
a gay disposition, and it was a long time since he had laughed so
much.
Meanwhile, he consoled the much discomfited Coimbra, and the latter,
helped to his feet, again took his place near the trader, while
throwing a menacing look at the audacious Austin.
At this moment Dick Sand, driven forward by an overseer, was led
before Alvez.
The latter evidently knew all about the young man, whence he came, and
how he had been taken to the camp on the Coanza.
So he said, after having given him an evil glance:
"The little Yankee!"
"Yes, Yankee!" replied Dick Sand. "What do they wish to do with my
companions and me?"
"Yankee! Yankee! Yankee!" repeated Alvez.
Did he not or would he not understand the question put to him?
A second time Dick Sand asked the question regarding his companions
and himself. He then turned to Coimbra, whose features, degraded as
they were by the abuse of alcoholic liquors, he saw were not of native
origin.
Coimbra repeated the menacing gesture already made at Austin, and did
not answer.
During this time Alvez talked rapidly with the Arab, Ibn Hamis, and
evidently of things that concerned Dick Sand and his friends.
No doubt they were to be again separated, and who could tell if
another chance to exchange a few words would ever again be offered
them.
"My friends," said Dick, in a low voice, and as if he were only
speaking to himself, "just a few words! I have received, by Dingo, a
letter from Hercules. He has followed the caravan. Harris and Negoro
took away Mrs. Weldon, Jack, and Mr. Benedict. Where? I know not, if
they are not here at Kazounde. Patience! courage! Be ready at any
moment. God may yet have pity on us!"
"And Nan?" quickly asked old Tom.
"Nan is dead!"
"The first!"
"And the last!" replied Dick Sand, "for we know well----"
At this moment a hand was laid on his shoulder, and he heard these
words, spoken in the amiable voice which he knew only too well:
"Ah, my young friend, if I am not mistaken! Enchanted to see you
again!"
Dick Sand turned.
Harris was before him.
"Where is Mrs. Weldon?" cried Dick Sand, walking toward the American.
"Alas!" replied Harris, pretending a pity that he did not feel, "the
poor mother! How could she survive!"
"Dead!" cried Dick Sand. "And her child?"
"The poor baby!" replied Harris, in the same tone, "how could he
outlive such fatigue!"
So, all whom Dick Sand loved were dead!
What passed within him? An irresistible movement of anger, a desire
for vengeance, which he must satisfy at any price!
Dick Sand jumped upon Harris, seized a dagger from the American's
belt, and plunged it into his heart.
"Curse you!" cried Harris, falling.
Harris was dead.
CHAPTER X.
THE GREAT MARKET DAY.
Dick Sand's action had been so rapid that no one could stop him. A few
natives threw themselves upon him, and he would have been murdered had
not Negoro appeared.
At a sign from the Portuguese, the natives drew back, raised Harris's
corpse and carried it away. Alvez and Coimbra demanded Dick Sand's
immediate death, but Negoro said to them in a low voice that they
would lose nothing by waiting. The order was given to take away the
young novice, with a caution not to lose sight of him for a moment.
Dick Sand had seen Negoro for the first time since their departure
from the coast. He knew that this wretch was alone responsible for
the loss of the "Pilgrim." He ought to hate him still more than his
accomplices. And yet, after having struck the American, he scorned to
address a word to Negoro. Harris had said that Mrs. Weldon and her
child had succumbed. Nothing interested him now, not even what they
would do with him. They would send him away. Where? It did not matter.
Dick Sand, heavily chained, was left on the floor of a pen without a
window, a kind of dungeon where the trader, Alvez, shut up the slaves
condemned to death for rebellion or unlawful acts. There he could no
longer have any communication with the exterior; he no longer dreamed
of regretting it. He had avenged those whom he loved, who no longer
lived. Whatever fate awaited him, he was ready for it.
It will be understood that if Negoro had stopped the natives who were
about to punish Harris's murderer, it was only because he wished to
reserve Dick Sand for one of those terrible torments of which the
natives hold the secret. The ship's cook held in his power the captain
of fifteen years. He only wanted Hercules to make his vengeance
complete.
Two days afterward, May 28th, the sale began, the great "lakoni,"
during which the traders of the principal factories of the interior
would meet the natives of the neighboring provinces. This market was
not specially for the sale of slaves, but all the products of this
fertile Africa would be gathered there with the producers.
From early morning all was intense animation on the vast "tchitoka" of
Kazounde, and it is difficult to give a proper idea of the scene. It
was a concourse of four or five thousand persons, including Alvez's
slaves, among whom were Tom and his companions. These four men, for
the reason that they belonged to a different race, are all the more
valuable to the brokers in human flesh. Alvez was there, the first
among all. Attended by Coimbra, he offered the slaves in lots. These
the traders from the interior would form into caravans. Among these
traders were certain half-breeds from Oujiji, the principal market
of Lake Tanganyika, and some Arabs, who are far superior to the
half-breeds in this kind of trade.
The natives flocked there in great numbers. There were children, men,
and women, the latter being animated traders, who, as regards a genius
for bargaining, could only be compared to their white sisters.
In the markets of large cities, even on a great day of sale, there is
never much noise or confusion. Among the civilized the need of selling
exceeds the desire to buy. Among these African savages offers are made
with as much eagerness as demands.
The "lakoni" is a festival day for the natives of both sexes, and if
for good reasons they do not put on their best clothes, they at least
wear their handsomest ornaments.
Some wear the hair divided in four parts, covered with cushions, and
in plaits tied like a chignon or arranged in pan-handles on the front
of the head with bunches of red feathers. Others have the hair in bent
horns sticky with red earth and oil, like the red lead used to close
the joints of machines. In these masses of real or false hair is worn
a bristling assemblage of skewers, iron and ivory pins, often even,
among elegant people, a tattooing-knife is stuck in the crisp mass,
each hair of which is put through a "sofi" or glass bead, thus forming
a tapestry of different-colored grains. Such are the edifices most
generally seen on the heads of the men.
The women prefer to divide their hair in little tufts of the size of
a cherry, in wreaths, in twists the ends of which form designs in
relief, and in corkscrews, worn the length of the face. A few, more
simple and perhaps prettier, let their long hair hang down the back,
in the English style, and others wear it cut over the forehead in a
fringe, like the French. Generally they wear on these wigs a greasy
putty, made of red clay or of glossy "ukola," a red substance
extracted from sandal-wood, so that these elegant persons look as if
their heads were dressed with tiles.
It must not be supposed that this luxury of ornamentation is confined
to the hair of the natives. What are ears for if not to pass pins of
precious wood through, also copper rings, charms of plaited maize,
which draw them forward, or little gourds which do for snuff-boxes,
and to such an extent that the distended lobes of these appendages
fall sometimes to the shoulders of their owners?
After all, the African savages have no pockets, and how could they
have any? This gives rise to the necessity of placing where they can
their knives, pipes, and other customary objects. As for the neck,
arms, wrists, legs, and ankles, these various parts of the body are
undoubtedly destined to carry the copper and brass bracelets, the
horns cut off and decorated with bright buttons, the rows of red
pearls, called -same-sames- or "talakas," and which were very
fashionable. Besides, with these jewels, worn in profusion, the
wealthy people of the place looked like traveling shrines.
Again, if nature gave the natives teeth, was it not that they could
pull out the upper and lower incisors, file them in points, and curve
them in sharp fangs like the fangs of a rattlesnake? If she has placed
nails at the end of the fingers, is it not that they may grow so
immoderately that the use of the hand is rendered almost impossible?
If the skin, black or brown, covers the human frame, is it not so as
to zebra it by "temmbos" or tattooings representing trees, birds,
crescents, full moons, or waving lines, in which Livingstone thought
he could trace the designs of ancient Egypt? This tattooing, done by
fathers, is practised by means of a blue matter introduced into the
incisions, and is "stereotyped" point by point on the bodies of the
children, thus establishing to what tribe or to what family they
belong. The coat-of-arms must be engraved on the breast, when it
cannot be painted on the panel of a carriage.
Such are the native fashions in ornament. In regard to garments
properly so called, they are summed up very easily; for the men,
an apron of antelope leather, reaching to the knees, or perhaps a
petticoat of a straw material of brilliant colors; for the women, a
belt of pearls, supporting at the hips a green petticoat, embroidered
in silk, ornamented with glass beads or coury; sometimes they wear
garments made of "lambba," a straw material, blue, black, and yellow,
which is much prized by the natives of Zanzibar.
These, of course, are the negroes of the best families. The others,
merchants, and slaves, are seldom clothed. The women generally act as
porters, and reach the market with enormous baskets on their back,
which they hold by means of a leathern strap passed over the forehead.
Then, their places being taken, and the merchandise unpacked, they
squat in their empty baskets.
The astonishing fertility of the country causes the choice alimentary
produces to be brought to this "lakoni." There were quantities of the
rice which returns a hundred per cent., of the maize, which, in three
crops in eight months, produces two hundred per cent., the sesamum,
the pepper of Ouroua, stronger than the Cayenne, allspice, tapioca,
sorghum, nutmegs, salt, and palm-oil.
Hundreds of goats were gathered there, hogs, sheep without wool,
evidently of Tartar origin, quantities of poultry and fish. Specimens
of pottery, very gracefully turned, attracted the eyes by their
violent colors.
Various drinks, which the little natives cried about in a squeaking
voice, enticed the unwary, in the form of plantain wine, "pombe," a
liquor in great demand, "malofou," sweet beer, made from the fruit
of the banana-tree and mead, a limpid mixture of honey and water
fermented with malt.
But what made the Kazounde market still more curious was the commerce
in stuffs and ivory.
In the line of stuffs, one might count by thousands of "choukkas"
or armfuls, the "Mericani" unbleached calico, come from Salem, in
Massachusetts, the "kanaki," a blue gingham, thirty-four inches wide,
the "sohari," a stuff in blue and white squares, with a red border,
mixed with small blue stripes. It is cheaper than the "dioulis," a
silk from Surat, with a green, red or yellow ground, which is worth
from seventy to eighty dollars for a remnant of three yards when woven
with gold.
As for ivory, it was brought from all parts of Central Africa, being
destined for Khartoum, Zanzibar, or Natal. A large number of merchants
are employed solely in this branch of African commerce.
Imagine how many elephants are killed to furnish the five hundred
thousand kilograms of ivory, which are annually exported to European
markets, and principally to the English! The western coast of Africa
alone produces one hundred and forty tons of this precious substance.
The average weight is twenty-eight pounds for a pair of elephant's
tusks, which, in 1874, were valued as high as fifteen hundred francs;
but there are some that weigh one hundred and seventy-five pounds, and
at the Kazounde market, admirers would have found some admirable ones.
They were of an opaque ivory, translucid, soft under the tool, and
with a brown rind, preserving its whiteness and not growing yellow
with time like the ivories of other provinces.
And, now, how are these various business affairs regulated between
buyers and sellers? What is the current coin? As we have said, for the
African traders this money is the slave.
The native pays in glass beads of Venetian manufacture, called
"catchocolos," when they are of a lime white; "bouboulous," when
they are black; "sikounderetches," when they are red. These beads or
pearls, strung in ten rows or "khetes," going twice around the neck,
make the "foundo," which is of great value. The usual measure of the
beads is the "frasilah," which weighs seventy pounds. Livingstone,
Cameron, and Stanley were always careful to be abundantly provided
with this money.
In default of glass beads, the "pice," a Zanzibar piece, worth four
centimes, and the "vroungouas," shells peculiar to the eastern coasts,
are current in the markets of the African continent. As for the
cannibal tribes, they attach a certain value to the teeth of the human
jaw, and at the "lakoni," these chaplets were to be seen on the necks
of natives, who had no doubt eaten their producers; but these teeth
were ceasing to be used as money.
Such, then, was the appearance of the great market. Toward the middle
of the day the gaiety reached a climax; the noise became deafening.
The fury of the neglected venders, and the anger of the overcharged
customers, were beyond description. Thence frequent quarrels, and, as
we know, few guardians of the peace to quell the fray in this howling
crowd.
Toward the middle of the day, Alvez gave orders to bring the slaves,
whom he wished to sell, to the square. The crowd was thus increased by
two thousand unfortunate beings of all ages, whom the trader had kept
in pens for several months. This "stock" was not in a bad condition.
Long rest and sufficient food had improved these slaves so as to look
to advantage at the "lakoni." As for the last arrivals, they could not
stand any comparison with them, and, after a month in the pens, Alvez
could certainly have sold them with more profit. The demands, however,
from the eastern coast, were so great that he decided to expose and
sell them as they were.
This was a misfortune for Tom and his three companions. The drivers
pushed them into the crowd that invaded the "tchitoka." They were
strongly chained, and their glances told what horror, what fury and
shame overwhelmed them.
"Mr. Dick is not there," Bat said, after some time, during which he
had searched the vast plain with his eyes.
"No," replied Acteon, "they will not put him up for sale."
"He will be killed, if he is not already," added the old black. "As
for us, we have but one hope left, which is, that the same trader will
buy us all. It would be a great consolation not to be separated."
"Ah! to know that you are far away from me, working like a slave, my
poor, old father!" cried Bat, sobbing aloud.
"No," said Tom. "No; they will not separate us, and perhaps we
might----"
"If Hercules were here!" cried Austin.
But the giant had not reappeared. Since the news sent to Dick Sand,
they had heard no one mention either Hercules or Dingo. Should they
envy him his fate? Why, yes; for if Hercules were dead, he was saved
from the chains of slavery!
Meanwhile, the sale had commenced. Alvez's agents marched the various
lots of men, women and children through the crowd, without caring
if they separated mothers from their infants. May we not call these
beings "unfortunates," who were treated only as domestic animals?
Tom and his companions were thus led from buyers to buyers. An agent
walked before them naming the price adjudged to their lot. Arab or
mongrel brokers, from the central provinces, came to examine them.
They did not discover in them the traits peculiar to the African race,
these traits being modified in America after the second generation.
But these vigorous and intelligent negroes, so very different from the
blacks brought from the banks of the Zambeze or the Loualaba, were all
the more valuable. They felt them, turned them, and looked at their
teeth. Horse-dealers thus examine the animals they wish to buy. Then
they threw a stick to a distance, made them run and pick it up, and
thus observed their gait.
This was the method employed for all, and all were submitted to these
humiliating trials. Do not believe that these people are completely
indifferent to this treatment! No, excepting the children, who cannot
comprehend the state of degradation to which they are reduced, all,
men or women, were ashamed.
Besides, they were not spared injuries and blows. Coimbra, half drunk,
and Alvez's agents, treated them with extreme brutality, and from
their new masters, who had just paid for them in ivory stuffs and
beads, they would receive no better treatment. Violently separated,
a mother from her child, a husband from his wife, a brother from a
sister, they were not allowed a last caress nor a last kiss, and on
the "lakoni" they saw each other for the last time.
In fact, the demands of the trade exacted that the slaves should be
sent in different directions, according to their sex. The traders who
buy the men do not buy women. The latter, in virtue of polygamy, which
is legal among the Mussulmans, are sent to the Arabic countries, where
they are exchanged for ivory. The men, being destined to the hardest
labor, go to the factories of the two coasts, and are exported either
to the Spanish colonies or to the markets of Muscat and Madagascar.
This sorting leads to heart-breaking scenes between those whom the
agents separate, and who will die without ever seeing each other
again.
The four companions in turn submitted to the common fate. But, to tell
the truth, they did not fear this event. It was better for them to
be exported into a slave colony. There, at least, they might have a
chance to protest. On the contrary, if sent to the interior, they
might renounce all hope of ever regaining their liberty.
It happened as they wished. They even had the almost unhoped for
consolation of not being separated. They were in brisk demand, being
wanted by several traders. Alvez clapped his hands. The prices rose.
It was strange to see these slaves of unknown value in the Kazounde
market, and Alvez had taken good care to conceal where they came from.
Tom and his friends, not speaking the language of the country, could
not protest.
Their master was a rich Arab trader, who in a few days would send them
to Lake Tanganyika, the great thoroughfare for slaves; then, from that
point, toward the factories of Zanzibar.
Would they ever reach there, through the most unhealthy and the most
dangerous countries of Central Africa? Fifteen hundred miles to march
under these conditions, in the midst of frequent wars, raised and
carried on between chiefs, in a murderous climate. Was old Tom strong
enough to support such misery? Would he not fall on the road like old
Nan? But the poor men were not separated. The chain that held them all
was lighter to carry. The Arab trader would evidently take care of
merchandise which promised him a large profit in the Zanzibar market.
Tom, Bat, Acteon, and Austin then left the place. They saw and heard
nothing of the scene which was to end the great "lakoni" of Kazounde.
CHAPTER XI
THE KING OF KAZOUNDE IS OFFERED A PUNCH.
It was four o'clock in the afternoon when a loud noise of drums,
cymbals, and other instruments of African origin resounded at the
end of the principal street. In all corners of the market-place the
animation was redoubled. Half a day of cries and wrestling had neither
weakened the voices nor broken the limbs of these abominable traders.
A large number of slaves still remained to be sold. The traders
disputed over the lots with an ardor of which the London Exchange
would give but an imperfect idea, even on a day when stocks were
rising.
All business was stopped, and the criers took their breath as soon as
the discordant concert commenced.
The King of Kazounde, Moini Loungga, had come to honor the great
"lakoni" with a visit. A numerous train of women, officers, soldiers
and slaves followed him. Alvez and some other traders went to meet
him, and naturally exaggerated the attention which this crowned brute
particularly enjoyed.
Moini Loungga was carried in an old palanquin, and descended, not
without the aid of a dozen arms, in the center of the large square.
This king was fifty years old, but he looked eighty. Imagine a
frightful monkey who had reached extreme old age; on his head a sort
of crown, ornamented with leopard's claws, dyed red, and enlarged
by tufts of whitish hair; this was the crown of the sovereigns
of Kazounde. From his waist hung two petticoats made of leather,
embroidered with pearls, and harder than a blacksmith's apron. He
had on his breast a quantity of tattooing which bore witness to the
ancient nobility of the king; and, to believe him, the genealogy of
Moini Loungga was lost in the night of time. On the ankles, wrists and
arms of his majesty, bracelets of leather were rolled, and he wore a
pair of domestic shoes with yellow tops, which Alvez had presented him
with about twenty years before.
His majesty carried in his left hand a large stick with a plated knob,
and in his right a small broom to drive away flies, the handle of
which was enriched with pearls.
Over his head was carried one of those old patched umbrellas, which
seemed to have been cut out of a harlequin's dress.
On the monarch's neck and on his nose were the magnifying glass and
the spectacles which had caused Cousin Benedict so much trouble. They
had been hidden in Bat's pocket.
Such is the portrait of his negro majesty, who made the country
tremble in a circumference of a hundred miles.
Moini Loungga, from the fact of occupying a throne, pretended to be
of celestial origin, and had any of his subjects doubted the fact, he
would have sent them into another world to discover it. He said that,
being of a divine essence, he was not subject to terrestrial laws. If
he ate, it was because he wished to do so; if he drank, it was because
it gave him pleasure. It was impossible for him to drink any more. His
ministers and his officers, all incurable drunkards, would have passed
before him for sober men.
The court was alcoholized to the last chief, and incessantly imbibed
strong beer, cider, and, above all, a certain drink which Alvez
furnished in profusion.
Moini Loungga counted in his harem wives of all ages and of all kinds.
The larger part of them accompanied him in this visit to the "lakoni."
Moini, the first, according to date, was a vixen of forty years, of
royal blood, like her colleagues. She wore a bright tartan, a straw
petticoat embroidered with pearls, and necklaces wherever she could
put them. Her hair was dressed so as to make an enormous framework on
her little head. She was, in fact, a monster.
The other wives, who were either the cousins or the sisters of the
king, were less richly dressed, but much younger. They walked behind
her, ready to fulfil, at a sign from their master, their duties as
human furniture. These unfortunate beings were really nothing else. If
the king wished to sit down, two of these women bent toward the earth
and served him for a chair, while his feet rested on the bodies of
some others, as if on an ebony carpet.
In Moini Loungga's suite came his officers, his captains, and his
magicians.
A remarkable thing about these savages, who staggered like their
master, was that each lacked a part of his body--one an ear, another
an eye, this one the nose, that one the hand. Not one was whole.
That is because they apply only two kinds of punishment in
Kazounde--mutilation or death--all at the caprice of the king. For the
least fault, some amputation, and the most cruelly punished are those
whose ears are cut off, because they can no longer wear rings in their
ears.
The captains of the -kilolos-, governors of districts, hereditary or
named for four years, wore hats of zebra skin and red vests for their
whole uniform. Their hands brandished long palm canes, steeped at one
end with charmed drugs.
As to the soldiers, they had for offensive and defensive weapons,
bows, of which the wood, twined with the cord, was ornamented with
fringes; knives, whetted with a serpent's tongue; broad and long
lances; shields of palm wood, decorated in arabesque style. For what
there was of uniform, properly so called, it cost his majesty's
treasury absolutely nothing.
Finally, the kind's cortege comprised, in the last place, the court
magicians and the instrumentalists.
The sorcerers, the "mganngas," are the doctors of the country.
These savages attach an absolute faith to divinatory services, to
incantations, to the fetiches, clay figures stained with white and
red, representing fantastic animals or figures of men and women
cut out of whole wood. For the rest, those magicians were not less
mutilated than the other courtiers, and doubtless the monarch paid
them in this way for the cures that did not succeed.
The instrumentalists, men or women, made sharp rattles whizz, noisy
drums sound or shudder under small sticks terminated by a caoutchouc
ball, "marimehas," kinds of dulcimers formed of two rows of gourds of
various dimensions--the whole very deafening for any one who does not
possess a pair of African ears.
Above this crowd, which composed the royal cortege, waved some flags
and standards, then at the ends of spears the bleached skulls of the
rival chiefs whom Moini Loungga had vanquished.
When the king had quitted his palanquin, acclamations burst forth from
all sides. The soldiers of the caravan discharged their old guns, the
low detonations of which were but little louder than the vociferations
of the crowd. The overseers, after rubbing their black noses with
cinnabar powder, which they carried in a sack, bowed to the ground.
Then Alvez, advancing in his turn, handed the king a supply of fresh
tobacco--"soothing herb," as they call it in the country. Moini
Loungga had great need of being soothed, for he was, they did not know
why, in a very bad humor.
At the same time Alvez, Coimbra, Ibn Hamis, and the Arab traders,
or mongrels, came to pay their court to the powerful sovereign of
Kazounde. "Marhaba," said the Arabs, which is their word of welcome in
the language of Central Africa. Others clapped their hands and bowed
to the ground. Some daubed themselves with mud, and gave signs of the
greatest servility to this hideous majesty.
Moini Loungga hardly looked at all these people, and walked, keeping
his limbs apart, as if the ground were rolling and pitching. He walked
in this manner, or rather he rolled in the midst of waves of slaves,
and if the traders feared that he might take a notion to apportion
some of the prisoners to himself, the latter would no less dread
falling into the power of such a brute.
Negoro had not left Alvez for a moment, and in his company presented
his homage to the king. Both conversed in the native language, if,
however, that word "converse" can be used of a conversation in which
Moini Loungga only took part by monosyllables that hardly found a
passage through his drunken lips. And still, did he not ask his
friend, Alvez, to renew his supply of brandy just exhausted by large
libations?
"King Loungga is welcome to the market of Kazounde," said the trader.
"I am thirsty," replied the monarch.
"He will take his part in the business of the great 'lakoni,'" added
Alvez.
"Drink!" replied Moini Loungga.
"My friend Negoro is happy to see the King of Kazounde again, after
such a long absence."
"Drink!" repeated the drunkard, whose whole person gave forth a
disgusting odor of alcohol.
"Well, some 'pombe'! some mead!" exclaimed Jose-Antonio Alvez, like a
man who well knew what Moini Loungga wanted.
"No, no!" replied the king; "my friend Alvez's brandy, and for each
drop of his fire-water I shall give him----"
"A drop of blood from a white man!" exclaimed Negoro, after making a
sign to Alvez, which the latter understood and approved.
"A white man! Put a white man to death!" repeated Moini Loungga, whose
ferocious instincts were aroused by the Portuguese's proposition.
"One of Alvez's agents has been killed by this white man," returned
Negoro.
"Yes, my agent, Harris," replied the trader, "and his death must be
avenged!"
"Send that white man to King Massongo, on the Upper Zaire, among the
Assonas. They will cut him in pieces. They will eat him alive. They
have not forgotten the taste of human flesh!" exclaimed Moini Loungga.
He was, in fact, the king of a tribe of man-eaters, that Massongo.
It is only too true that in certain provinces of Central Africa
cannibalism is still openly practised. Livingstone states it in his
"Notes of Travel." On the borders of the Loualaba the Manyemas not
only eat the men killed in the wars, but they buy slaves to devour
them, saying that "human flesh is easily salted, and needs little
seasoning." Those cannibals Cameron has found again among the
Moene-Bongga, where they only feast on dead bodies after steeping them
for several days in a running stream. Stanley has also encountered
those customs of cannibalism among the inhabitants of the Oukonson.
Cannibalism is evidently well spread among the tribes of the center.
But, cruel as was the kind of death proposed by the king for Dick
Sand, it did not suit Negoro, who did not care to give up his victim.
"It was here," said he, "that the white man killed our comrade
Harris."
"It is here that he ought to die!" added Alvez.
"Where you please, Alvez," replied Moini Loungga; "but a drop of
fire-water for a drop of blood!"
"Yes," replied the trader, "fire-water, and you will see that it well
merits that name! We shall make it blaze, this water! Jose-Antonio
Alvez will offer a punch to the King Moini Loungga."
The drunkard shook his friend Alvez's hands. He could not contain his
joy. His wives, his courtiers shared his ecstasy. They had never seen
brandy blaze, and doubtless they counted on drinking it all blazing.
Then, after the thirst for alcohol, the thirst for blood, so imperious
among these savages, would be satisfied also.
Poor Dick Sand! What a horrible punishment awaited him. When we think
of the terrible or grotesque effects of intoxication in civilized
countries, we understand how far it can urge barbarous beings.
We will readily believe that the thought of torturing a white could
displease none of the natives, neither Jose-Antonio Alvez, a negro
like themselves, nor Coimbra, a mongrel of black blood, nor Negoro
either, animated with a ferocious hatred against the whites.
The evening had come, an evening without twilight, that was going to
make day change tonight almost at once, a propitious hour for the
blazing of the brandy.
It was truly a triumphant idea of Alvez's, to offer a punch to this
negro majesty, and to make him love brandy under a new form. Moini
Loungga began to find that fire-water did not sufficiently justify its
name. Perhaps, blazing and burning, it would tickle more agreeably the
blunted papillas of his tongue.
The evening's program then comprised a punch first, a punishment
afterwards.
Dick Sand, closely shut up in his dark prison, would only come out to
go to his death. The other slaves, sold or not, had been put back in
the barracks. There only remained at the "tchitoka," the traders, the
overseers and the soldiers ready to take their part of the punch, if
the king and his court allowed them.
Jose-Antonio Alvez, advised by Negoro, did the thing well. They
brought a vast copper basin, capable of containing at least two
hundred pints, which was placed in the middle of the great place.
Barrels holding alcohol of inferior quality, but well refined, were
emptied into the basin. They spared neither the cinnamon, nor the
allspice, nor any of the ingredients that might improve this punch for
savages.
All had made a circle around the king. Moini Loungga advanced
staggering to the basin. One would say that this vat of brandy
fascinated him, and that he was going to throw himself into it.
Alvez generously held him back and put a lighted match into his hand.
"Fire!" cried he with a cunning grimace of satisfaction.
"Fire!" replied Moini Loungga lashing the liquid with the end of the
match.
What a flare and what an effect, when the bluish flames played on the
surface of the basin. Alvez, doubtless to render that alcohol
still sharper, had mingled with it a few handfuls of sea salt. The
assistants' faces were then given that spectral lividness that the
imagination ascribes to phantoms.
Those negroes, drunk in advance, began to cry out, to gesticulate,
and, taking each other by the hand, formed an immense circle around
the King of Kazounde.
Alvez, furnished with an enormous metal spoon, stirred the liquid,
which threw a great white glare over those delirious monkeys.
Moini Loungga advanced. He seized the spoon from the trader's hands,
plunged it into the basin, then, drawing it out full of punch in
flames, he brought it to his lips.
What a cry the King of Kazounde then gave!
An act of spontaneous combustion had just taken place. The king had
taken fire like a petroleum bonbon. This fire developed little heat,
but it devoured none the less.
At this spectacle the natives' dance was suddenly stopped.
One of Moini Loungga's ministers threw himself on his sovereign to
extinguish him; but, not less alcoholized than his master, he took
fire in his turn.
In this way, Moini Loungga's whole court was in peril of burning up.
Alvez and Negoro did not know how to help his majesty. The women,
frightened, had taken flight. As to Coimbra, he took his departure
rapidly, well knowing his inflammable nature.
The king and the minister, who had fallen on the ground, were burning
up, a prey to frightful sufferings.
In bodies so thoroughly alcoholized, combustion only produces a light
and bluish flame, that water cannot extinguish. Even stifled outside,
it would still continue to burn inwardly. When liquor has penetrated
all the tissues, there exists no means of arresting the combustion.
A few minutes after, Moini Loungga and his minister had succumbed, but
they still burned. Soon, in the place where they had fallen, there was
nothing left but a few light coals, one or two pieces of the vertebral
column, fingers, toes, that the fire does not consume, in cases of
spontaneous combustion, but which it covers with an infectious and
penetrating soot.
It was all that was left of the King of Kazounde and of his
minister.
CHAPTER XII.
A ROYAL BURIAL.
The next day, May 29th, the city of Kazounde presented a strange
aspect. The natives, terrified, kept themselves shut up in their huts.
They had never seen a king, who said he was of divine essence, nor a
simple minister, die of this horrible death. They had already burned
some of their fellow-beings, and the oldest could not forget certain
culinary preparations relating to cannibalism.
They knew then how the incineration of a human body takes place with
difficulty, and behold their king and his minister had burnt all
alone! That seemed to them, and indeed ought to seem to them,
inexplicable.
Jose-Antonio Alvez kept still in his house. He might fear that he
would be held responsible for the accident. Negoro had informed him of
what had passed, warning him to take care of himself. To charge him
with Moini Loungga's death might be a bad affair, from which he might
not be able to extricate himself without damage.
But Negoro had a good idea. By his means Alvez spread the report that
the death of Kazounde's sovereign was supernatural; that the great
Manitou only reserved it for his elect. The natives, so inclined to
superstition, accepted this lie. The fire that came out of the bodies
of the king and his minister became a sacred fire. They had nothing to
do but honor Moini Loungga by obsequies worthy of a man elevated to
the rank of the gods.
These obsequies, with all the ceremonial connected with them among the
African tribes, was an occasion offered to Negoro to make Dick Sand
play a part. What this death of Moini Loungga was going to cost in
blood, would be believed with difficulty, if the Central Africa
travelers, Lieutenant Cameron among others, had not related facts that
cannot be doubted.
The King of Kazounde's natural heir was the Queen Moini. In proceeding
without delay with the funeral ceremonies she acted with sovereign
authority, and could thus distance the competitors, among others
that King of the Oukonson, who tended to encroach upon the rights of
Kazounde's sovereigns. Besides, Moini, even by becoming queen, avoided
the cruel fate reserved for the other wives of the deceased; at the
same time she would get rid of the youngest ones, of whom she, first
in date, had necessarily to complain. This result would particularly
suit the ferocious temperament of that vixen. So she had it announced,
with deer's horns and other instruments, that the obsequies of the
defunct king would take place the next evening with all the usual
ceremony.
No protestation was made, neither at court nor from the natives. Alvez
and the other traders had nothing to fear from the accession of this
Queen Moini. With a few presents, a few flattering remarks, they would
easily subject her to their influence. Thus the royal heritage was
transmitted without difficulty. There was terror only in the harem,
and not without reason.
The preparatory labors for the funeral were commenced the same day. At
the end of the principal street of Kazounde flowed a deep and rapid
stream, an affluent of the Coango. The question was to turn this
stream aside, so as to leave its bed dry. It was in that bed that the
royal grave must be dug. After the burial the stream would be restored
to its natural channel.
The natives were busily employed in constructing a dam, that forced
the stream to make a provisional bed across the plain of Kazounde.
At the last tableau of this funeral ceremony the barricade would be
broken, and the torrent would take its old bed again.
Negoro intended Dick Sand to complete the number of victims sacrificed
on the king's tomb. He had been a witness of the young novice's
irresistible movement of anger, when Harris had acquainted him with
the death of Mrs. Weldon and little Jack.
Negoro, cowardly rascal, had not exposed himself to the same fate as
his accomplice. But now, before a prisoner firmly fastened by the feet
and hands, he supposed he had nothing to fear, and resolved to pay
him a visit. Negoro was one of those miserable wretches who are not
satisfied with torturing their victims; they must also enjoy their
sufferings.
Toward the middle of the day, then, he repaired to the barrack where
Dick Sand was guarded, in sight of an overseer. There, closely bound,
was lying the young novice, almost entirely deprived of food for
twenty-four hours, weakened by past misery, tortured by those bands
that entered into his flesh; hardly able to turn himself, he was
waiting for death, no matter how cruel it might be, as a limit to so
many evils.
However, at the sight of Negoro he shuddered from head to foot. He
made an instinctive effort to break the bands that prevented him from
throwing himself on that miserable man and having revenge.
But Hercules himself would not succeed in breaking them. He understood
that it was another kind of contest that was going to take place
between the two, and arming himself with calmness, Dick Sand compelled
himself to look Negoro right in the face, and decided not to honor him
with a reply, no matter what he might say.
"I believed it to be my duty," Negoro said to him it first, "to come
to salute my young captain for the last time, and to let him know how
I regret, for his sake, that he does not command here any longer, as
he commanded on board the 'Pilgrim.'"
And, seeing that Dick Sand did not reply:
"What, captain, do you no longer recognize your old cook? He comes,
however, to take your orders, and to ask you what he ought to serve
for your breakfast."
At the same time Negoro brutally kicked the young novice, who was
lying on the ground.
"Besides," added he, "I should have another question to address to
you, my young captain. Could you yet explain to me, how, wishing to
land on the American coast, you have ended by arriving in Angola,
where you are?"
Certainly, Dick Sand had no more need of the Portuguese's words to
understand what he had truly divined, when he knew at last that the
"Pilgrim's" compass must have been made false by this traitor.
But Negoro's question was an avowal. Still he only replied by a
contemptuous silence.
"You will acknowledge, captain," continued Kegoro, "that it was
fortunate for you that there was a seaman on board--a real one, at
that. Great God, where would we be without him? Instead of perishing
on some breaker, where the tempest would have thrown you, you have
arrived, thanks to him, in a friendly port, and if it is to any one
that you owe being at last in a safe place, it is to that seaman whom
you have wronged in despising, my young master!"
Speaking thus, Negoro, whose apparent calmness was only the result
of an immense effort, had brought his form near Dick Sand. His face,
suddenly become ferocious, touched him so closely that one would
believe that he was going to devour him. This rascal could no longer
contain his fury.
"Every dog has his day!" he exclaimed, in the paroxysm of fury excited
in him by his victim's calmness. "To-day I am captain, I am master!
Your life is in my hands!"
"Take it," Sand replied, without emotion. "But, know there is in
heaven a God, avenger of all crimes, and your punishment is not
distant!"
"If God occupies himself with human beings, there is only time for Him
to take care of you!"
"I am ready to appear before the Supreme Judge," replied Dick Sand,
coldly, "and death will not make me afraid."
"We shall see about that!" howled Negoro. "You count on help of some
kind, perhaps--help at Kazounde, where Alvez and I are all-powerful!
You are a fool! You say to yourself, perhaps, that your companions are
still there, that old Tom and the others. Undeceive yourself. It is a
long time since they were sold and sent to Zanzibar--too fortunate if
they do not die of fatigue on the way!"
"God has a thousand ways of doing justice," replied Dick Sand. "The
smallest instrument is sufficient for him. Hercules is free."
"Hercules!" exclaimed Negoro, striking the ground with his foot; "he
perished long ago under the lions' and panthers' teeth. I regret
only one thing, that is, that those ferocious beasts should have
forestalled my vengeance!"
"If Hercules is dead," replied Dick Sand, "Dingo is alive. A dog like
that, Negoro, is more than enough to take revenge on a man of your
kind. I know you well, Negoro; you are not brave. Dingo will seek for
you; it will know how to find you again. Some day you will die under
his teeth!"
"Miserable boy!" exclaimed the Portuguese, exasperated. "Miserable
boy! Dingo died from a ball that I fired at it. It is dead, like Mrs.
Weldon and her son; dead, as all the survivors of the 'Pilgrim' shall
die!"
"And as you yourself shall die before long," replied Dick Sand, whose
tranquil look made the Portuguese grow pale.
Negoro, beside himself, was on the point of passing from words to
deeds, and strangling his unarmed prisoner with his hands. Already
he had sprung upon him, and was shaking him with fury, when a sudden
reflection stopped him. He remembered that he was going to kill his
victim, that all would be over, and that this would spare him the
twenty-four hours of torture he intended for him. He then stood up,
said a few words to the overseer, standing impassive, commanded him to
watch closely over the prisoner, and went out of the barrack.
Instead of casting him down, this scene had restored all Dick Sand's
moral force. His physical energy underwent a happy reaction, and at
the same time regained the mastery. In bending over him in his rage,
had Negoro slightly loosened the bands that till then had rendered all
movement impossible? It was probable, for Dick Sand thought that his
members had more play than before the arrival of his executioner. The
young novice, feeling solaced, said to himself that perhaps it would
be possible to get his arms free without too much effort. Guarded
as he was, in a prison firmly shut, that would doubtless be only a
torture--only a suffering less; but it was such a moment in life when
the smallest good is invaluable.
Certainly, Dick Sand hoped for nothing. No human succor could come to
him except from outside, and whence could it come to him? He was then
resigned. To tell the truth, he no longer cared to live. He thought of
all those who had met death before him, and he only aspired to join
them. Negoro had just repeated what Harris had told him: "Mrs. Weldon
and little Jack had succumbed." It was, indeed, only too probable that
Hercules, exposed to so many dangers, must have perished also, and
from a cruel death. Tom and his companions were at a distance, forever
lost to him--Dick Sand ought to believe it. To hope for anything but
the end of his troubles, by a death that could not be more terrible
than his life, would be signal folly. He then prepared to die, above
all throwing himself upon God, and asking courage from Him to go on
to the end without giving way. But thoughts of God are good and noble
thoughts! It is not in vain that one lifts his soul to Him who can do
all, and, when Dick Sand had offered his whole sacrifice, he found
that, if one could penetrate to the bottom of his heart, he might
perhaps discover there a last ray of hope--that glimmer which a breath
from on high can change, in spite of all probabilities, into dazzling
light.
The hours passed away. Night came. The rays of light, that penetrated
through the thatch of the barrack, gradually disappeared. The last
noises of the "tchitoka," which, during that day had been very silent,
after the frightful uproar of the night before--those last noises
died out. Darkness became very profound in the interior of the narrow
prison. Soon all reposed in the city of Kazounde.
Dick Sand fell into a restoring sleep, that lasted two hours. After
that he awoke, still stronger. He succeeded in freeing one of his
arms from their bands--it was already a little reduced--and it was a
delight for him to be able to extend it and draw it back at will.
The night must be half over. The overseer slept with heavy sleep, due
to a bottle of brandy, the neck of which was still held in his shut
hand. The savage had emptied it to the last drop. Dick Sand's first
idea was to take possession of his jailer's weapons, which might be of
great use to him in case of escape; but at that moment he thought
he heard a slight scratching at the lower part of the door of the
barrack. Helping himself with his arms, he succeeded in crawling as
far as the door-sill without wakening the overseer.
Dick Sand was not mistaken. The scratching continued, and in a more
distinct manner. It seemed that from the outside some one was digging
the earth under the door. Was it an animal? Was it a man?
"Hercules! If it were Hercules!" the young novice said to himself.
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