and black with its scarlet border. More expensive than these were lots
of silk -diulis-, with red, green, or yellow grounds, which are sold in
lengths of three yards, at prices varying from seven dollars to eighty,
when they are interwoven with gold.
The ivory had come from well-nigh every part of Central Africa, and was
destined for Khartoom, Zanzibar, and Natal, many of the merchants
dealing in this commodity exclusively.
How vast a number of elephants must be slaughtered to supply this ivory
may be imagined when it is remembered that over 200 tons, that is,
1,125,000 lbs., are exported annually to Europe. Of this, much the
larger share goes to England, where the Sheffield cutlery consumes
about 382,500 lbs. From the West Coast of Africa alone the produce is
nearly 140 tons.
The average weight of a pair of tusks is 28 lbs., and the ordinary
value of these in 1874 would be about 60-l-.; but here in Kazonndé were
some weighing no less than 165 lbs., of that soft, translucent quality
which retains its whiteness far better than the ivory from other
sources.
As already mentioned, slaves are not unfrequently used as current money
amongst the African traders, but the natives themselves usually pay for
their goods with Venetian glass beads, of which the chalk-white are
called -catchokolos-, the black -bubulus-, and the red
-sikunderetches-. Strung in ten rows, or -khetés-, these beads are
twisted twice round the neck, forming what is called a -foondo-, which
is always reckoned of considerable value.
The usual measure by which they are sold is the -frasilah-, containing
a weight of about 70 lbs. Livingstone, Cameron and Stanley always took
care to be well provided with this kind of currency. In default of
beads, the picé, a Zanzibar coin worth something more than a farthing,
and -vioon-gooas,- shells peculiar to the East Coast, are recognized as
a medium of exchange in the market. Amongst the cannibal tribes a
certain value is attached to human teeth, and at the lakoni some
natives might be seen wearing strings of teeth, the owners of which
they had probably, at some previous time, devoured. This species of
currency, however, was falling rapidly into disuse.
Towards the middle of the day the excitement of the market reached its
highest pitch, and the uproar became perfectly deafening. The voices of
the eager sellers mingled with those of indignant and overcharged
customers; fights were numerous, and as there was an utter absence of
any kind of police, no effort was made to restore peace or order
amongst the unruly crowd.
It was just noon when Alvez gave orders that the slaves he wished to
dispose of should be placed on view. Thereupon nearly two thousand
unfortunates were brought forward, many of whom had been confined in
the dealer's barracks for several months. Most of the stock, however,
had been so carefully attended to that they were in good condition, and
it was only the last batch that looked as if they would be improved by
another month's rest; but as the demand upon the East Coast was now
very large, Alvez hoped to get a good price for all, and determined to
part with even the last arrivals for whatever sum he could obtain.
Amongst these latter, whom the havildars drove like a herd of cattle
into the middle of the chitoka, were Tom and his three friends. They
were closely chained, and rage and shame were depicted in their
countenances.
Bat passed a quick and scrutinizing gaze around him, and said to the
others,--
"I do not see Mr. Dick."
Tom answered mournfully,--
"Mr. Dick will be killed, if he is not dead already. Our only hope is
that we may now all be bought in one lot; it will be a consolation to
us if we can be all together."
Tears rose to Bat's eyes as he thought of how his poor old father was
likely to be sold, and carried away to wear out his days as a common
slave.
The sale now commenced. The agents of Alvez proceeded to divide the
slaves, men, women and children, into lots, treating them in no respect
better than beasts in a cattle-market. Tom and the others were paraded
about from customer to customer, an agent accompanying them to proclaim
the price demanded. Strong, intelligent-looking Americans, quite
different to the miserable creatures brought from the banks of the
Zambesi and Lualaba, they at once attracted the observation of the Arab
and half-breed dealers. Just as though they were examining a horse, the
buyers felt their limbs, turned them round and round, looked at their
teeth, and finally tested their paces by throwing a stick to a distance
and making them run to fetch it.
All the slaves were subjected to similar humiliations; and ail alike,
except the very young children, seemed deeply sensible of their
degradation. The cruelty exhibited towards them was very vile. Coïmbra,
who was half drunk, treated them with the utmost brutality; not that
they had any reason to expect any gentler dealings at the hands of the
new masters who might purchase them for ivory or any other commodity.
Children were torn away from their parents, husbands from their wives,
brothers from sisters, and without even the indulgence of a parting
word, were separated never to meet again.
The scenes that occur at such markets as this at Kazonndé are too
heartrending to be described in detail.
It is one of the peculiar requirements of the slave-trade that the two
sexes should have an entirely different destination. In fact, the
dealers who purchase men never purchase women. The women, who are
required to supply the Mussulman harems, are sent principally to Arab
districts to be exchanged for ivory; whilst the men, who are to be put
to hard labour, are despatched to the coast, East and West, whence they
are exported to the Spanish colonies, or to the markets of Muscat or
Madagascar.
To Tom and his friends the prospect of being transported to a slave
colony was far better than that of being retained in some Central
African province, where they could have no chance of regaining their
liberty; and the moment, to them, was accordingly one of great suspense.
Altogether, things turned out for them better than they dared
anticipate. They had at least the satisfaction of finding that as yet
they were not to be separated. Alvez, of course, had taken good care to
conceal the origin of this exceptional lot, and their own ignorance of
the language thoroughly prevented them from communicating it; but the
anxiety to secure so valuable a property rendered the competition for
it very keen; the bidding rose higher and higher, until at length the
four men were knocked down to a rich Arab dealer, who purposed in the
course of a few days to take them to Lake Tanganyika, and thence to one
of the deptôs of Zanzibar.
This journey, it is true, would be for 1500 miles across the most
unhealthy parts of Central Africa, through districts harassed by
internal wars; and it seemed improbable that Tom could survive the
hardships he must meet; like poor old Nan, he would succumb to fatigue;
but the brave fellows did not suffer themselves to fear the future,
they were only too happy to be still together; and the chain that bound
them one to another was felt to be easier and lighter to bear.
Their new master knew that it was for his own interest that his
purchase should be well taken care of; he looked to make a substantial
profit at Zanzibar, and sent them off at once to his own private
barracks; consequently they saw no more of what transpired at Kazonndé.
CHAPTER XI.
A BOWL OF PUNCH.
The afternoon was passing away, and it was now past four o'clock, when
the sound of drums, cymbals, and a variety of native instruments was
heard at the end of the main thoroughfare. The market was still going
on with the same animation as before; half a day's screeching and
fighting seemed neither to have wearied the voices nor broken the limbs
of the demoniacal traffickers; there was a considerable number of
slaves still to be disposed of, and the dealers were haggling over the
remaining lots with an excitement of which a sudden panic on the London
Stock Exchange could give a very inadequate conception.
But the discordant concert which suddenly broke upon the ear was the
signal for business to be at once suspended. The crowd might cease its
uproar, and recover its breath. The King of Kazonndé, Moené Loonga, was
about to honour the -lakoni- with a visit.
Attended by a large retinue of wives, officers, soldiers, and slaves,
the monarch was conveyed to the middle of the market-place in an old
palanquin, from which he was obliged to have five or six people to help
him to descend. Alvez and the other traders advanced to meet him with
the most exaggerated gestures of reverence, all of which he received as
his rightful homage.
He was a man of fifty years of age, but might easily have passed for
eighty. He looked like an old, decrepit monkey. On his head was a kind
of tiara, adorned with leopards' claws dyed red, and tufts of
greyish-white hair; this was the usual crown of the sovereigns of
Kazonndé. From his waist hung two skirts of coodoo-hide, stiff as
blacksmiths' aprons, and embroidered with pearls. The tattooings on his
breast were so numerous that his pedigree, which they declared, might
seem to reach back to time immemorial. His wrists and arms were encased
in copper bracelets, thickly encrusted with beads; he wore a pair of
top-boots, a present from Alvez some twenty years ago; in his left hand
he carried a great stick surmounted by a silver knob; in his right a
fly-flapper with a handle studded with pearls; over his head was
carried an old umbrella with as many patches as a Harlequin's coat,
whilst from his neck hung Cousin Benedict's magnifying-glass, and on
his nose were the spectacles which had been stolen from Bat's pocket.
[Illustration: The potentate beneath whose sway the country trembled
for a hundred miles round]
Such was the appearance of the potentate beneath whose sway the country
trembled for a hundred miles round.
By virtue of his sovereignty Moené Loonga claimed to be of celestial
origin; and any subject who should have the audacity to raise a
question on this point would have been despatched forthwith to another
world. All his actions, his eating and drinking, were supposed to be
performed by divine impulse. He certainly drank like no other mortal;
his officers and ministers, confirmed tipplers as they were, appeared
sober men in comparison with himself, and he seemed never to be doing
anything but imbibing strong pombé, and over-proof spirit with which
Alvez kept him liberally supplied.
In his harem Moené Loonga had wives of all ages from forty to fourteen,
most of whom accompanied him on his visit to the -lakoni-. Moena, the
chief wife, who was called the queen, was the eldest of them all, and,
like the rest, was of royal blood. She was a vixenish-looking woman,
very gaily attired; she wore a kind of bright tartan over a skirt of
woven grass, embroidered with pearls; round her throat was a profusion
of necklaces, and her hair was mounted up in tiers that toppled high
above her head, making her resemble some hideous monster. The younger
wives, all of them sisters or cousins of the king, were less
elaborately dressed. They walked behind her, ready at the slightest
sign to perform the most menial services. Did his Majesty wish to sit
down, two of them would immediately stoop to the ground and form a seat
with their bodies, whilst others would have to lie down and support his
feet upon their backs: a throne and footstool of living ebony.
Amidst the staggering, half-tipsy crowd of ministers, officers, and
magicians that composed Moené Loonga's suite, there was hardly a man to
be seen who had not lost either an eye, an ear, or hand, or nose. Death
and mutilation were the only two punishments practised in Kazonndé, and
the slightest offence involved the instant amputation of some member of
the body. The loss of the ear was considered the severest penalty, as
it prevented the possibility of wearing earrings!
The governors of districts, or -kilolos-, whether hereditary or
appointed for four years, were distinguished by red waistcoats and
zebra-skin caps; in their hands they brandished long rattans, coated at
one extremity with a varnish of magic drugs.
The weapons carried by the soldiers consisted of wooden bows adorned
with fringes and provided with a spare bowstring, knives filed into the
shape of serpents' tongues, long, broad lances, and shields of palm
wood, ornamented with arabesques. In the matter of uniform, the royal
army had no demands to make upon the royal treasury.
Amongst the attendants of the king there was a considerable number of
sorcerers and musicians. The sorcerers, or -mganga-, were practically
the physicians of the court, the savages having the most implicit faith
in divinations and incantations of every kind, and employing fetishes,
clay or wooden figures, representing sometimes ordinary human beings
and sometimes fantastic animals. Like the rest of the retinue, these
magicians were, for the most part, more or less mutilated, an
indication that some of their prescriptions on behalf of the king had
failed of success.
The musicians were of both sexes, some performing on shrill rattles,
some on huge drums, whilst others played on instruments called
-marimbas-, a kind of dulcimer made of two rows of different-sized
gourds fastened in a frame, and struck by sticks with india-rubber
balls at the end. To any but native ears the music was perfectly
deafening.
[Illustration: Alvez advanced and presented the king with some fresh
tobacco.]
Several flags and banners were carried in the procession, and amongst
these was mixed up a number of long pikes, upon which were stuck the
skulls of the various chiefs that Moené Loonga had conquered in battle.
As the king as helped out of his palanquin, the acclamations rose
higher and higher from every quarter of the market place The soldiers
attached to the caravans fired off their old guns, though the reports
were almost too feeble to be heard above the noisy vociferations of the
crowd; and the havildars rubbed their black noses with cinnabar powder,
which they carried in bags, and prostrated themselves. Alvez advanced
and presented the king with some fresh tobacco, "the appeasing herb,"
as it is called in the native dialect; and certainly Moené Loonga
seemed to require some appeasing, as, for some unknown reason, he was
in a thoroughly bad temper.
Coïmbra, Ibn Hamish and the dealers all came forward to pay their court
to the monarch, the Arabs greeting him with the cry of -marhaba-, or
welcome; others clapped their hands and bowed to the very ground; while
some even smeared themselves with mud, in token of their most servile
subjection.
But Moené Loonga scarcely took notice of any of them; he went
staggering along, rolling like a ship upon a stormy sea, and made his
way past the crowds of slaves, each of whom, no less than their
masters, trembled lest he should think fit to claim them for his own.
Negoro, who kept close at Alvez' side, did not fail to render his
homage along with the rest. Alvez and the king were carrying on a
conversation in the native language, if that could be called a
conversation in which Moené Loonga merely jerked out a few
monosyllables from his inflamed and swollen lips. He was asking Alvez
to replenish his stock of brandy.
"We are proud to welcome your majesty at the market of Kazonndé," Alvez
was saying.
"Get me brandy," was all the drunken king's reply.
"Will it please your majesty to take part in the business of the
-lakoni-?" Alvez tried to ask.
"Drink!" blurted out the king impatiently.
Alvez continued,--
"My friend Negoro here is anxious to greet your majesty after his long
absence."
"Drink!" roared the monarch again.
"Will the king take pombé or mead?" asked Alvez, at last obliged to
take notice of the demand.
"Brandy! give me fire-water!" yelled the king, in a fury. "For every
drop you shall have ..."
"A drop of a white man's blood!" suggested Negoro, glancing at Alvez.
"Yes, yes; kill a white man," assented Moené Loonga, his ferocious
instincts all aroused by the proposition.
"There is a white man here," said Alvez, "who has killed my agent. He
must be punished for his act."
"Send him to King Masongo!" cried the king; "Masongo and the Assuas
will cut him up and eat him alive."
Only too true it is that cannibalism is still openly practised in
certain provinces of Central Africa. Livingstone records that the
Manyuemas not only eat men killed in war, but even buy slaves for that
purpose; it is said to be the avowal of these Manyuemas that "human
flesh is slightly salt, and requires no seasoning." Cameron relates how
in the dominions of Moené Booga dead bodies were soaked for a few days
in running water as a preparation for their being devoured; and Stanley
found traces of a widely-spread cannibalism amongst the inhabitants of
Ukusu.
But however horrible might be the manner of death proposed by Moené
Loonga, it did not at all suit Negoro's purpose to let Dick Sands out
of his clutches.
"The white man is here," he said to the king; "it is here he has
committed his offence, and here he should be punished."
"If you will," replied Moené Loonga; "only I must have fire-water; a
drop of fire-water for every drop of the white man's blood."
"Yes, you shall have the fire-water," assented Alvez, "and what is
more, you shall have it all alight. We will give your majesty a bowl of
blazing punch."
The thought had struck Alvez, and he was himself delighted with the
idea, that he would set the spirit in flames. Moené Loonga had
complained that the "fire-water" did not justify its name as it ought,
and Alvez hoped that perhaps, administered in this new form, it might
revivify the deadened membranes of the palate of the king.
Moené Loonga did not conceal his satisfaction. Wives and courtiers
alike were full of anticipation. They had all drunk brandy, but they
had not drunk brandy alight. And not only was their thirst for alcohol
to be satisfied; their thirst for blood was likewise to be indulged;
and when it is remembered how, even amongst the civilized, drunkenness
reduces a man below the level of a brute, it may be imagined to what
barbarous cruelties Dick Sands was likely to be exposed. The idea of
torturing a white man was not altogether repugnant to the coloured
blood of either Alvez or Coïmbra, while with Negoro the spirit of
vengeance had completely overpowered all feeling of compunction.
Night, without any intervening twilight, was soon drawing on, and the
contemplated display could hardly fail to be effective. The programme
for the evening consisted of two parts; first, the blazing punch-bowl;
then the torture, culminating in an execution.
The destined victim was still closely confined in his dark and dreary
dungeon; all the slaves, whether sold or not, had been driven back to
the barracks, and the chitoka was cleared of every one except the
slave-dealers, the havildars, and the soldiers, who hoped, by favour of
the king, to have a share of the flaming punch.
Alvez did not long delay the proceedings. He ordered a huge caldron,
capable of containing more than twenty gallons, to be placed in the
centre of the market-place. Into this were emptied several casks of
highly-rectified spirit, of a very inferior quality, to which was added
a supply of cinnamon and other spices, no ingredient being omitted
which was likely to give a pungency to suit the savage palate.
The whole royal retinue formed a circle round the king. Fascinated by
the sight of the spirit, Moené Loonga came reeling up to the edge of
the punch-bowl, and seemed ready to plunge himself head foremost into
it. Alvez held him back, at the same time placing a lucifer in his hand.
"Set it alight!" cried the slave-dealer, grinning slily as he spoke.
The king applied the match to the surface of the spirit. The effect was
instantaneous. High above the edge of the bowl the blue flame rose and
curled. To give intensity to the process Alvez had added a sprinkling
of salt to the mixture, and this caused the fire to cast upon the faces
of all around that lurid glare which is generally associated with
apparitions of ghosts and phantoms. Half intoxicated already, the
negroes yelled and gesticulated; and joining hands, they performed a
fiendish dance around their monarch. Alvez stood and stirred the spirit
with an enormous metal ladle, attached to a pole, and as the flames
rose yet higher and higher they seemed to throw a more and more
unearthly glamour over the ape-like forms that circled in their wild
career.
Moené Loonga, in his eagerness, soon seized the ladle from the
slave-dealer's hands, plunged it deep into the bowl, and bringing it up
again full of the blazing punch, raised it to his lips.
A horrible shriek brought the dancers to a sudden standstill. By a kind
of spontaneous combustion, the king had taken fire internally; though
it was a fire that emitted little heat, it was none the less intense
and consuming. In an instant one of the ministers in attendance ran to
the king's assistance, but he, almost as much alcoholized as his
master, caught fire as well, and soon both monarch and minister lay
writhing on the ground in unutterable agony. Not a soul was able to
lend a helping hand. Alvez and Negoro were at a loss what to do; the
courtiers dared not expose themselves to so terrible a fate; the women
had all fled in alarm, and Coïmbra, awakened to the conviction of the
inflammability of his own condition, had rapidly decamped.
[Illustration: The king had taken fire internally.]
To say the truth, it was impossible to do anything; water would have
proved unavailing to quench the pale blue flame that hovered over the
prostrate forms, every tissue of which was so thoroughly impregnated
with spirit, that combustion, though outwardly extinguished, would
continue its work internally.
In a few minutes life was extinct, but the bodies continued long
afterwards to burn; until, upon the spot where they had fallen, a few
light ashes, some fragments of the spinal column, some fingers and some
toes, covered with a thin layer of stinking soot, were all that
remained of the King of Kazonndé and his ill fated minister.
CHAPTER XII.
ROYAL OBSEQUIES.
On the following morning the town of Kazonndé presented an aspect of
unwonted desolation. Awe-struck at the event of the previous evening,
the natives had all shut themselves up in their huts. That a monarch
who was to be assumed as of divine origin should perish with one of his
ministers by so horrible a death was a thing wholly unparalleled in
their experience. Some of the elder part of the community remembered
having taken part in certain cannibal preparations, and were aware that
the cremation of a human body is no easy matter, yet here was a case in
which two men had been all but utterly consumed without any extraneous
application. Here was a mystery that baffled all their comprehension.
Old Alvez had also retired to the seclusion of his own residence;
having been warned by Negoro that he would probably be held responsible
for the occurrence, he deemed it prudent to keep in retirement.
Meanwhile Negoro industriously circulated the report that the king's
death had been brought about by supernatural means reserved by the
great Manitoo solely for his elect, and that it was sacred fire that
had proceeded from his body. The superstitious natives readily received
this version of the affair, and at once proceeded to honour Moené
Loonga with funeral rites worthy of one thus conspicuously elevated to
the rank of the gods. The ceremony (which entailed an expenditure of
human blood incredible except that it is authenticated by Cameron and
other African travellers) was just the opportunity that Negoro required
for carrying out his designs against Dick, whom he intended to take a
prominent part in it.
The natural successor to the king was the queen Moena. By inaugurating
the funeral without delay and thus assuming the semblance of authority,
she forestalled the king of Ukusu or any other rival who might venture
to dispute her sovereignty; and moreover, by taking the reins of
government into her hands she avoided the fate reserved for the other
wives who, had they been allowed to live, might prove somewhat
troublesome to the shrew. Accordingly, with the sound of coodoo horns
and marimbas, she caused a proclamation to be made in the various
quarters of the town, that the obsequies of the deceased monarch would
be celebrated on the next evening with all due solemnity.
The announcement met with no opposition either from the officials about
the court or from the public at large. Alvez and the traders generally
were quite satisfied with Moena's assumption of the supremacy, knowing
that by a few presents and a little flattery they could make her
sufficiently considerate for their own interests.
Preparations began at once. At the end of the chief thoroughfare flowed
a deep and rapid brook, an affluent of the Coango, in the dry bed of
which the royal grave was to be formed. Natives were immediately set to
work to construct a dam by means of which the water should be diverted,
until the burial was over, into a temporary channel across the plain;
the last act in the ceremonial being to undam the stream and allow it
to resume its proper course.
Negoro had formed the resolution that Dick Sands should be one of the
victims to be sacrificed upon the king's tomb. Thoroughly aware as he
was that the indignation which had caused the death of Harris extended
in at least an equal degree to himself, the cowardly rascal would not
have ventured to approach Dick under similar circumstances at the risk
of meeting a similar fate; but knowing him to be a prisoner bound hand
and foot, from whom there could be nothing to fear, he resolved to go
to him in his dungeon-*
Not only did he delight in torturing his victims, but he derived an
especial gratification from witnessing the torture.
About the middle of the day, accordingly, he made his way to the cell
where Dick was detained under the strict watch of a havildar. There,
bound with fetters that penetrated his very flesh, lay the poor boy;
for the last four and twenty hours he had not been allowed a morsel of
food, and would gladly have faced the most painful death as a welcome
relief to his miseries.
But at the sight of Negoro all his energy revived; instinctively he
made an effort to burst his bonds, and to get a hold upon his
persecutor; but the strength of a giant would have been utterly
unavailing for such a design. Dick felt that the struggle he had to
make was of another kind, and forcing himself to an apparent composure,
he determined to look Negoro straight in the face, but to vouchsafe no
reply to anything he might say.
"I felt bound," Negoro began, "to come and pay my respects to my young
captain, and to tell him how sorry I am that he has not the same
authority here that he had on board the 'Pilgrim.'"
Finding that Dick returned no answer, he continued,--
"You remember your old cook, captain: I have come to know what you
would like to order for your breakfast."
Here he paused to give a brutal kick at Dick's foot, and went on,--
"I have also another question to ask you, captain; can you tell me how
it was that you landed here in Angola instead of upon the coast of
America?"
The way in which the question was put more than ever confirmed Dick's
impression that the "Pilgrim's" course had been altered by Negoro, but
he persevered in maintaining a contemptuous silence.
"It was a lucky thing for you, captain," resumed the vindictive
Portuguese, "that you had a good seaman on board, otherwise the ship
would have run aground on some reef in the tempest, instead of coming
ashore here in a friendly port."
[Illustration: "Your life is in my hands!"]
Whilst he was speaking, Negoro had gradually drawn nearer to the
prisoner, until their faces were almost in contact. Exasperated by
Dick's calmness, his countenance assumed an expression of the utmost
ferocity, and at last he burst forth in a paroxysm of rage.
"It is my turn now! I am master now! I am captain here! You are in my
power now! Your life is in my hands!"
"Take it, then," said Dick quietly; "death has no terrors for me, and
your wickedness will soon be avenged."
"Avenged!" roared Negoro; "do you suppose there is a single soul to
care about you? Avenged! who will concern himself with what befalls
you? except Alvez and me, there is no one with a shadow of authority
here; if you think you are going to get any help from old Tom or any of
those niggers, let me tell you that they are every one of them sold and
have been sent off to Zanzibar."
"Hercules is free," said Dick.
"Hercules!" sneered Negoro; "he has been food for lions and panthers
long ago, I am only sorry that I did not get the chance of disposing of
him myself."
"And there is Dingo," calmly persisted Dick; "sure as fate, he will
find you out some day."
"Dingo is dead!" retorted Negoro with malicious glee: "I shot the brute
myself, and I should be glad if every survivor of the 'Pilgrim' had
shared his fate."
"But remember," said Dick, "you have to follow them all yourself;" and
he fixed a sharp gaze upon his persecutor's eye.
The Portuguese villain was stung to the quick; he made a dash towards
the youth, and would have strangled him upon the spot, but remembering
that any such sudden action would be to liberate him from the torture
he was determined he should undergo, he controlled his rage, and after
giving strict orders to the havildar, who had been a passive spectator
of the scene, to keep a careful watch upon his charge, he left the
dungeon.
So far from depressing Dick's spirits, the interview had altogether a
contrary effect; his feelings had undergone a reaction, so that all his
energies were restored. Possibly Negoro in his sudden assault had
unintentionally loosened his fetters, for he certainly seemed to have
greater play for his limbs, and fancied that by a slight effort he
might succeed in disengaging his arms. Even that amount of freedom,
however, he knew could be of no real avail to him; he was a
closely-guarded prisoner, without hope of succour from without; and now
he had no other wish than cheerfully to meet the death that should
unite him to the friends who had gone before.
The hours passed on. The gleams of daylight that penetrated the
thatched roof of the prison gradually faded into darkness; the few
sounds on the chitoka, a great contrast to the hubbub of the day,
became hushed into silence, and night fell upon the town of Kazonndé.
Dick Sands slept soundly for about a couple of hours, and woke up
considerably refreshed. One of his arms, which was somewhat less
swollen than the other, he was able to withdraw from its bonds; it was
at any rate a relief to stretch it at his pleasure.
The havildar, grasping the neck of a brandy-bottle which he had just
drained, had sunk into a heavy slumber, and Dick Sands was
contemplating the possibility of getting posssession of his gaoler's
weapons when his attention was arrested by a scratching at the bottom
of the door. By the help of his liberated arm he contrived to crawl
noiselessly to the threshold, where the scratching increased in
violence. For a moment he was in doubt whether the noise proceeded from
the movements of a man or an animal. He gave a glance at the havildar,
who was sound asleep, and placing his lips against the door murmured
"Hercules!"
A low whining was the sole reply.
"It must be Dingo," muttered Dick to himself; "Negoro may have told me
a lie; perhaps, after all, the dog is not dead."
As though in answer to his thoughts, a dog's paw was pushed below the
door. Dick seized it eagerly; he had no doubt it was Dingo's; but if
the dog brought a message, it was sure to be tied to his neck, and
there seemed to be no means of getting at it, except the hole
underneath could be made large enough to admit the animal's head. Dick
determined to try and scrape away the soil at the threshold, and
commenced digging with his nails. But he had scarcely set himself to
his task when loud barkings, other than Dingo's, were heard in the
distance. The faithful creature had been scented out by the native
dogs, and instinct dictated an immediate flight. Alarm had evidently
been taken, as several gun-shots were fired; the havildar half roused
himself from his slumber, and Dick was fain to roll himself once more
into his corner, there to await the dawn of the day which was intended
to be his last.
[Illustration: All his energies were restored.]
Throughout that day, the grave-digging was carried on with unremitted
activity. A large number of the natives, under the superintendence of
the queen's prime minister, were set to work, and according to the
decree of Moena, who seemed resolved to continue the rigorous sway of
her departed husband, were bound, under penalty of mutilation, to
accomplish their task within the proscribed time.
As soon as the stream had been diverted into its temporary channel,
there was hollowed out in the dry river bed a pit, fifty feet long, ten
feet wide, and ten feet deep. This, towards the close of the day, was
lined throughout with living women, selected from Moené Loonga's
slaves; in ordinary cases it would have been their fate to be buried
alive beside their master; but in recognition of his miraculous death
it was ordained that they should be drowned beside his remains.[1]
[Footnote 1: The horrible hecatombs that commemorate the death of any
powerful chief in Central Africa defy all description. Cameron relates
that more than a hundred victims were sacrificed at the obsequies of
the father of the King of Kassongo.]
Generally, the royal corpse is arrayed in its richest vestments before
being consigned to the tomb, but in this case, when the remains
consisted only of a few charred bones, another plan was adopted. An
image of the king, perhaps rather flattering to the original, was made
of wicker-work; inside this were placed the fragments of bones and
skin, and the effigy itself was then arrayed in the robes of state,
which, as already mentioned, were not of a very costly description.
Cousin Benedict's spectacles were not forgotten, but were firmly
affixed to the countenance of the image. The masquerade had its
ludicrous as well as its terrible side.
When the evening arrived, a long procession was seen wending its way to
the place of interment; the uproar was perfectly deafening; shouts,
yells, the boisterous incantations of the musicians, the clang of
musical instruments, and the reports of many old muskets, mingled in
wild confusion.
The ceremony was to take place by torch-light, and the whole population
of Kazonndé, native and otherwise, was bound to be present. Alvez,
Coïmbra, Negoro, the Arab dealers and their havildars all helped to
swell the numbers, the queen having given express orders that no one
who had been at the lakoni should leave the town, and it was not deemed
prudent to disobey her commands.
The remains of the king were carried in a palanquin in the rear of the
cortége, surrounded by the wives of the second class, some of whom were
doomed to follow their master beyond the tomb. Queen Moena, in state
array, marched behind the catafalque.
Night was well advanced when the entire procession reached the banks of
the brook, but the resin-torches, waved on high by their bearers, shed
a ruddy glare upon the teeming crowd. The grave, with its lining of
living women, bound to its side by chains, was plainly visible; fifty
slaves, some resigned and mute, others uttering loud and piteous cries,
were there awaiting the moment when the rushing torrent should be
opened upon them.
The wives who were destined to perish had been selected by the queen
herself and were all in holiday-attire. One of the victims, who bore
the title of second wife, was forced down upon her hands and knees in
the grave, in order to form a resting-place for the effigy, as she had
been accustomed to do for the living sovereign; the third wife had to
sustain the image in an upright position, and the fourth lay down at
its feet to make a footstool.
In front of the effigy, at the end of the grave, a huge stake, painted
red, was planted firmly in the earth. Bound to this stake, his body
half naked, exhibiting marks of the tortures which by Negoro's orders
he had already undergone, friendless and hopeless, was Dick Sands!
[Illustration: Friendless and hopeless.]
The time, however, for opening the flood-gate had not yet arrived.
First of all, at a sign from the queen, the fourth wife, forming the
royal footstool had her throat cut by an executioner, her blood
streaming into the grave. This barbarous deed was the commencement of a
most frightful butchery. One after another, fifty slaves fell beneath
the slaughterous knife, until the river-bed was a very cataract of
blood. For half an hour the shrieks of the victims mingled with the
imprecations of their murderers, without evoking one single expression
of horror or sympathy from the gazing crowd around.
At a second signal from the queen, the barrier, which retained the
water above, was opened. By a refinement of cruelty the torrent was not
admitted suddenly to the grave, but allowed to trickle gradually in.
The first to be drowned were the slaves that carpeted the bottom of the
trench, their frightful struggles bearing witness to the slow death
that was overpowering them. Dick was immersed to his knees, but he
could be seen making what might seem one last frantic effort to burst
his bonds.
Steadily rose the water; the stream resumed its proper course; the last
head disappeared beneath its surface, and soon there remained nothing
to indicate that in the depth below there was a tomb where a hundred
victims had been sacrificed to the memory of the King of Kazonndé.
Painful as they are to describe, it is impossible to ignore the reality
of such scenes.
CHAPTER XIII.
IN CAPTIVITY.
So far from Mrs. Weldon and Jack having succumbed to the hardships to
which they had been exposed, they were both alive, and together with
Cousin Benedict were now in Kazonndé. After the assault upon the
ant-hill they had all three been conveyed beyond the encampment to a
spot where a rude palanquin was in readiness for Mrs. Weldon and her
son. The journey hence to Kazonndé was consequently accomplished
without much difficulty; Cousin Benedict, who performed it on foot, was
allowed to entomologize as much as he pleased upon the road, so that to
him the distance was a matter of no concern. The party reached their
destination a week sooner than Ibn Hamish's caravan, and the prisoners
were lodged in Alvez' quarters.
Jack was much better. After leaving the marshy districts he had no
return of fever, and as a certain amount of indulgence had been allowed
them on their journey, both he and his mother, as far as their health
was concerned, might be said to be in a satisfactory condition.
Of the rest of her former companions Mrs. Weldon could hear nothing.
She had herself been a witness of the escape of Hercules, but of course
knew nothing further of his fate; as for Dick Sands, she entertained a
sanguine hope that his white skin would protect him from any severe
treatment; but for Nan and the other poor negroes, here upon African
soil, she feared the very worst.
Being entirely shut off from communication with the outer world, she
was quite unaware of the arrival of the caravan; even if she had heard
the noisy commotion of the market she would not have known what it
meant, and she was in ignorance alike of the death of Harris, of the
sale of Tom and his companions, of the dreadful end of the king, and of
the royal obsequies in which poor Dick had been assigned so melancholy
a share. During the journey from the Coanza to Kazonndé, Harris and
Negoro had held no conversation with her, and since her arrival she had
not been allowed to pass the inclosure of the establishment, so that,
as far as she knew, she was quite alone, and being in Negoro's power,
was in a position from which it seemed only too likely nothing but
death could release her.
From Cousin Benedict, it is needless to repeat, she could expect no
assistance; his own personal pursuits engrossed him, and he had no care
nor leisure to bestow upon external circumstances. His first feeling,
on being made to understand that he was not in America, was one of deep
disappointment that the wonderful things he had seen were no
discoveries at all; they were simply African insects common on African
soil. This vexation, however, soon passed away, and he began to believe
that "the land of the Pharaohs" might possess as much entomological
wealth as "the land of the Incas."
"Ah," he would exclaim to Mrs. Weldon, heedless that she gave him
little or no attention, "this is the country of the manticoræ, and
wonderful coleoptera they are, with their long hairy legs, their sharp
elytra and their big mandibles; the most remarkable of them all is the
tuberous manticora. And isn't this, too, the land of the golden-tipped
calosomi? and of the prickly-legged goliaths of Guinea and Gabon? Here,
too, we ought to find the spotted anthidia, which lay their eggs in
empty snail-shells; and the sacred atenchus, which the old Egyptians
used to venerate as divine."
"Yes, yes;" he would say at another time, "this is the proper habitat
of those death's-head sphinxes which are now so common everywhere; and
this is the place for those 'Idias Bigoti,' so formidable to the
natives of Senegal. There must be wonderful discoveries to be made here
if only those good people will let me."
The "good people" referred to were Negoro and Harris, who had restored
him much of the liberty of which Dick Sands had found it necessary to
deprive him. With freedom to roam and in possession of his tin box,
Benedict would have been amongst the most contented of men, had it not
been for the loss of his spectacles and magnifying-glass, now buried
with the King of Kazonndé. Reduced to the necessity of poking every
insect almost into his eyes before he could discover its
characteristics, he would have sacrificed much to recover or replace
his glasses, but as such articles were not to be procured at any price,
he contented himself with the permission to go where he pleased within
the limits of the palisade. His keepers knew him well enough to be
satisfied that he would make no attempt to escape, and as the enclosure
was nearly a mile in circumference, containing many shrubs and trees
and huts with thatched roofs, besides being intersected by a running
stream, it afforded him a very fair scope for his researches, and who
should say that he would not discover some novel specimen to which, in
the records of entomological science, his own name might be assigned?
If thus the domain of Antonio Alvez was sufficient to satisfy Benedict,
to little Jack it might well seem immense. But though allowed to ramble
over the whole place as he liked, the child rarely cared to leave his
mother; he would be continually inquiring about his father, whom he had
now so long been expecting to see: he would ask why Nan and Hercules
and Dingo had gone away and left him; and perpetually he would be
expressing his wonder where Dick could be, and wishing he would come
back again. Mrs. Weldon could only hide her tears and answer him by
caresses.
Nothing, however, transpired to give the least intimation that any of
the prisoners were to be treated otherwise than they had been upon the
journey from the Coanza. Excepting such as were retained for old Alvez'
personal service, all the slaves had been sold, and the storehouses
were now full of stuffs and ivory, the stuffs destined to be sent into
the central provinces and the ivory to be exported. The establishment
was thus no longer crowded as it had been, and Mrs. Weldon and Jack
were lodged in a different hut to Cousin Benedict. All three, however,
took their meals together and were allowed a sufficient diet of mutton
or goats'-flesh, vegetables, manioc, sorghum and native fruits. With
the traders' servants they held no communication, but Halima, a young
slave who had been told off to attend to Mrs. Weldon, evinced for her
new mistress an attachment which, though rough, was evidently sincere.
[Illustration: He contented himself with the permission to go where he
pleased within the limits of the palisade.]
Old Alvez, who occupied the principal house in thedépôt, was rarely
seen; whilst the non-appearance of either Harris or Negoro caused Mrs.
Weldon much surprise and perplexity. In the midst of all her troubles,
too, she was haunted by the thought of the anxiety her husband must be
suffering on her account. Unaware of her having embarked on board the
"Pilgrim," at first he would have wondered at steamer after steamer
arriving at San Francisco without her. After a while the "Pilgrim"
would have been registered amongst the number of missing ships; and it
was certain the intelligence would be forwarded to him by his
correspondents, that the vessel had sailed from Auckland with his wife
and child on board. What was he to imagine? he might refuse to believe
that they had perished at sea, but he would never dream of their having
been carried to Africa, and would certainly institute a search in no
other direction than on the coast of America, or amongst the isles of
the Pacific. She had not the faintest hope of her whereabouts being
discovered, and involuntarily her thoughts turned to the possibility of
making an escape. She might well feel her heart sink within her at the
bare idea; even if she should succeed in eluding the vigilance of the
watch, there were two hundred miles of dense forest to be traversed
before the coast could be reached; nevertheless, it revealed itself to
her as her last chance, and failing all else, she resolved to hazard it.
But, first of all, she determined, if it were possible, to discover the
ultimate design of Negoro. She was not kept long in suspense. On the
6th of June, just a week after the royal funeral, the Portuguese
entered the depót, in which he had not set foot since his return, and
made his way straight to the hut in which he knew he should find the
prisoner. Benedict was out insect-hunting; Jack, under Halima's charge,
was being taken for a walk. Mrs. Weldon was alone.
Negoro pushed open the door, and said abruptly,--
"Mrs. Weldon, I have come to tell you, that Tom and his lot have been
sold for the Ujiji market; Nan died on her way here; and Dick Sands is
dead too."
Mrs. Weldon uttered a cry of horror.
"Yes, Mrs. Weldon," he continued; "he has got what he deserved; he shot
Harris, and has been executed for the murder. And here you are alone!
mark this! alone and in my power!"
What Negoro said was true; Tom, Bat, Actæon, and Austin had all been
sent off that morning on their way to Ujiji.
Mrs. Weldon groaned bitterly.
Negoro went on.
"If I chose, I could still further avenge upon you the ill-treatment I
got on board that ship; but it does not suit my purpose to kill you.
You and that boy of yours, and that idiot of a fly-catcher, all have a
certain value in the market. I mean to sell you."
"You dare not!" said Mrs. Weldon firmly; "you know you are making an
idle threat; who do you suppose would purchase people of white blood?"
"I know a customer who will give me the price I mean to ask," replied
Negoro with a brutal grin.
She bent down her head; only too well she knew that such things were
possible in this horrid land.
"Tell me who he is!" she said; "tell the name of the man who ..."
"James Weldon," he answered slowly.
"My husband!" she cried; "what do you mean?"
"I mean what I say. I mean to make your husband buy you back at my
price; and if he likes to pay for them, he shall have his son and his
cousin too."
[Illustration: "I suppose Weldon will not mind coming to fetch you?"]
"And when, and how, may I ask, do you propose to manage this?" replied
Mrs. Weldon, forcing herself to be calm.
"Here, and soon too. I suppose Weldon will not mind coming to fetch
you."
"He would not hesitate to come; but how could he know we are here?"
"I will go to him. I have money that will take me to San Francisco."
"What you stole from the 'Pilgrim'?" said Mrs. Weldon.
"Just so," replied Negoro; "and I have plenty more I suppose when
Weldon hears that you are a prisoner in Central Africa, he will not
think much of a hundred thousand dollars."
"But how is he to know the truth of your statement?"
"I shall take him a letter from you. You shall represent me as your
faithful servant, just escaped from the hands of savages."
"A letter such as that I will never write; never," said Mrs. Weldon
decisively.
"What? what? you refuse?"
"I refuse."
She had all the natural cravings of a woman and a wife, but so
thoroughly was she aware of the treachery of the man she had to deal
with, that she dreaded lest, as soon as he had touched the ransom, he
would dispose of her husband altogether.
There was a short silence.
"You will write that letter," said Negoro.
"Never!" repeated Mrs. Weldon.
"Remember your child!"
Mrs. Weldon's heart beat violently, but she did not answer a word.
"I will give you a week to think over this," hissed out Negoro.
Mrs. Weldon was still silent.
"A week! I will come again in a week; you will do as I wish, or it will
be the worse for you."
He gnashed his teeth, turned on his heel, and left the hut.
CHAPTER XIV.
A RAY OF HOPE.
Mrs. Weldon's first feeling on being left alone was a sense of relief
at having a week's respite. She had no trust in Negoro's honesty, but
she knew well enough that their "marketable value" would secure them
from any personal danger, and she had time to consider whether some
compromise might be effected by which her husband might be spared the
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