[Illustration: WEST COAST OF CENTRAL AFRICA.]
CHAPTER I.
THE DARK CONTINENT.
The "slave-trade" is an expression that ought never to have found its
way into any human language. After being long practised at a large
profit by such European nations as had possessions beyond the seas,
this abominable traffic has now for many years been ostensibly
forbidden; yet even in the enlightenment of this nineteenth century, it
is still largely carried on, especially in Central Africa, inasmuch as
there are several states, professedly Christian, whose signatures have
never been affixed to the deed of abolition.
Incredible as it should seem, this barter of human beings still exists,
and for the due comprehension of the second part of Dick Sands' story
it must be borne in mind, that for the purpose of supplying certain
colonies with slaves, there continue to be prosecuted such barbarous
"man-hunts" as threaten almost to lay waste an entire continent with
blood, fire, and pillage.
The nefarious traffic as far as regards negroes does not appear to have
arisen until the fifteenth century. The following are said to be the
circumstances under which it had its origin. After being banished from
Spain, the Mussulmans crossed the straits of Gibraltar and took refuge
upon the shores of Africa, but the Portuguese who then occupied that
portion of the coast persecuted the fugitives with the utmost severity,
and having captured them in large numbers, sent them as prisoners into
Portugal. They were thus the first nucleus of any African slaves that
entered Western Europe since the commencement of the Christian era. The
majority, however, of these Mussulmans were members of wealthy
families, who were prepared to pay almost any amount of money for their
release; but no ransom was exorbitant enough to tempt the Portuguese to
surrender them; more precious than gold were the strong arms that
should work the resources of their young and rising colonies. Thus
baulked in their purpose of effecting a direct ransom of their captured
relatives, the Mussulman families next submitted a proposition for
exchanging them for a larger number of African negroes, whom it would
be quite easy to procure. The Portuguese, to whom the proposal was in
every way advantageous, eagerly accepted the offer; and in this way the
slave-trade was originated in Europe.
By the end of the sixteenth century this odious traffic had become
permanently established; in principle it contained nothing repugnant to
the semi-barbarous thought and customs then existing; all the great
states recognized it as the most effectual means of colonizing the
islands of the New World, especially as slaves of negro blood, well
acclimatized to tropical heat, were able to survive where white men
must have perished by thousands. The transport of slaves to the
American colonies was consequently regularly effected by vessels
specially built for that purpose, and large dépôts for this branch of
commerce were established at various points of the African coast. The
"goods" cost comparatively little in production, and the profits were
enormous.
Yet, after all, however indispensable it might be to complete the
foundation of the trans-atlantic colonies, there was nothing to justify
this shameful barter of human flesh and blood, and the voice of
philanthropy began to be heard in protestation, calling upon all
European governments, in the name of mercy and common humanity, to
decree the abolition of the trade at once.
In 1751, the Quakers put themselves at the head of the abolitionist
movement in North America, that very land where, a hundred years later,
the war of secession burst forth, in which the question of slavery bore
the most conspicuous part. Several of the Northern States, Virginia,
Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Pennsylvania prohibited the trade,
liberating the slaves, in spite of the cost, who had been imported into
their territories.
The campaign, thus commenced, was not limited to a few provinces of the
New World; on this side of the Atlantic, too, the partisans of slavery
were subject to a vigourous attack. England and France led the van, and
energetically beat up recruits to serve the righteous cause. "Let us
lose our colonies rather than sacrifice our principles," was the
magnanimous watchword that resounded throughout Europe, and
notwithstanding the vast political and commercial interests involved in
the question, it did not go forth in vain. A living impulse had been
communicated to the liberation-movement. In 1807, England formally
prohibited the slave-trade in her colonies; France following her
example in 1814. The two great nations then entered upon a treaty on
the subject, which was confirmed by Napoleon during the Hundred Days.
Hitherto, however, the declaration was purely theoretical. Slave-ships
continued to ply their illicit trade, discharging their living cargo at
many a colonial port. It was evident that more resolute and practical
measures must be taken to impress the enormity. Accordingly the United
States in 1820, and Great Britain in 1824, declared the slave-trade to
be an act of piracy and its perpetrators to be punishable with death.
France soon gave in her adherence to the new treaty, but the Southern
States of America, and the Spanish and Portuguese, not having signed
the act of abolition, continued the importation of slaves at a great
profit, and this in defiance of the recognized reciprocal right of
visitation to verify the flags of suspected ships.
But although the slave-trade by these measures was in a considerable
measure reduced, it continued to exist; new slaves were not allowed,
but the old ones did not recover their liberty. England was now the
first to set a noble example. On the 14th of May, 1833, an Act of
Parliament, by a munificent vote of millions of pounds, emancipated all
the negroes in the British Colonies, and in August, 1838, 670,000
slaves were declared free men. Ten years later, in 1848, the French
Republic liberated the slaves in her colonies to the number of 260,000,
and in 1859 the war which broke out between the Federals and
Confederates in the United States finished the work of emancipation by
extending it to the whole of North America.
Thus, three great powers have accomplished their task of humanity, and
at the present time the slave-trade is carried on only for the
advantage of the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, or to supply the
requirements of the Turkish or Arab populations of the East. Brazil,
although she has not emancipated her former slaves, does not receive
any new, and all negro children are pronounced free-born.
In contrast, however, to all this, it is not to be concealed that, in
the interior of Africa, as the result of wars between chieftains waged
for the sole object of making captives, entire tribes are often reduced
to slavery, and are carried off in caravans in two opposite directions,
some westwards to the Portuguese colony of Angola, others eastwards to
Mozambique. Of these miserable creatures, of whom a very small
proportion ever reach their destination, some are despatched to Cuba or
Madagascar, others to the Arab or Turkish provinces of Asia, to Mecca
or Muscat. The French and English cruisers have practically very little
power to control the iniquitous proceedings, because the extent of
coast to be watched is so large that a strict and adequate surveillance
cannot be maintained. The extent of the odious export is very
considerable; no less than 24,000 slaves annually reach the coast, a
number that hardly represents a tenth part of those who are massacred
or otherwise perish by a deplorable end. After the frightful
butcheries, the fields lie devastated, the smouldering villages are
void of inhabitants, the rivers reek with bleeding corpses, and wild
beasts take undisputed possession of the soil. Livingstone, upon
returning to a district, immediately after one of these ruthless raids,
said that he could never have recognized it for the same that he had
visited only a few months previously; and all other travellers, Grant,
Speke, Burton, Cameron, Stanley, describe the wooded plateau of Central
Africa as the principal theatre of the barbarous warfare between chief
and chief. In the region of the great lakes, throughout the vast
district which feeds the market of Zanzibar, in Bornu and Fezzan,
further south on the banks of the Nyassa and Zambesi, further west in
the districts of the Upper Zaire, just traversed by the intrepid
Stanley, everywhere there is the recurrence of the same scenes of ruin,
slaughter, and devastation. Ever and again the question seems to be
forced upon the mind whether slavery is not to end in the entire
annihilation of the negro race, so that, like the Australian tribes of
South Holland, it will become extinct. Who can doubt that the day must
dawn which will herald the closing of the markets in the Spanish and
Portuguese colonies, a day when civilized nations shall no longer
tolerate the perpetration of this barbarous wrong?
It is hardly too much to say that another year ought to witness the
emancipation of every slave in the possession of Christian states. It
seems only too likely that for years to come the Mussulman nations will
continue to depopulate the continent of Africa; to them is due the
chief emigration of the natives, who, torn from their provinces, are
sent to the eastern coast in numbers that exceed 40,000 annually. Long
before the Egyptian expedition the natives of Sennaar were sold to the
natives of Darfur and -vice versa-; and even Napoleon Buonaparte
purchased a considerable number of negroes, whom he organized into
regiments after the fashion of the mamelukes. Altogether it may be
affirmed, that although four-fifths of the present century have passed
away, slave-traffic in Africa has been increased rather than diminished.
The truth is that Islamism really nurtures the slave-trade. In
Mussulman provinces, the black slave has taken the place of the white
slave of former times; dealers of the most questionable character bear
their part in the execrable business, bringing a supplementary
population to races which, unregenerated by their own labour, would
otherwise diminish and ultimately disappear.
As in the time of Buonaparte, these slaves often become soldiers; on
the Upper Niger, for instance, they still form half the army of certain
chieftains, under circumstances in which their lot is hardly, if at
all, inferior to that of free men. Elsewhere, where the slave is not a
soldier, he counts merely as current coin; and in Bornu and even in
Egypt, we are told by William Lejean, an eye-witness, that officers and
other functionaries have received their pay in this form.
Such, then, appears to be the present actual condition of the
slave-trade; and it is stern justice that compels the additional
statement that there are representatives of certain great European
powers who still favour the unholy traffic with an indulgent
connivance, and whilst cruisers are watching the coasts of the Atlantic
and of the Indian Ocean, kidnapping goes on regularly in the interior,
caravans pass along under the very eyes of certain officials, and
massacres are perpetrated in which frequently ten negroes are
sacrificed in the capture of a single slave.
It was the knowledge, more or less complete, of all this, that wrung
from Dick Sands his bitter and heart-rending cry:--
"We are in Africa! in the very haunt of slave-drivers!"
Too true it was that he found himself and his companions in a land
fraught with such frightful peril. He could only tremble when he
wondered on what part of the fatal continent the "Pilgrim" had
stranded. Evidently it was at some point of the west coast, and he had
every reason to fear that it was on the shores of Angola, the
rendezvous for all the caravans that journey in that portion of Africa.
His conjecture was correct; he really was in the very country that a
few years later and with gigantic effort was to be traversed by Cameron
in the south and Stanley in the north. Of the vast territory, with its
three provinces, Congo, Angola, and Benguela, little was then known
except the coast. It extends from the Zaire on the north to the Nourse
on the south, and its chief towns are the ports of Benguela and of St.
Paul de Loanda, the capital of the colony, which is a dependency of the
kingdom of Portugal. The interior of the country had been almost
entirely unexplored. Very few were the travellers who had cared to
venture far inland, for an unhealthy climate, a hot, damp soil
conducive to fever, a permanent warfare between the native tribes, some
of which are cannibals, and the ill-feeling of the slave-dealers
against any stranger who might endeavour to discover the secrets of
their infamous craft, all combine to render the region one of the most
hazardous in the whole of Equatorial Africa.
It was in 1816 that Tuckey ascended the Congo as far as the Yellala
Falls, a distance not exceeding 203 miles; but the journey was too
short to give an accurate idea of the interior of the country, and
moreover cost the lives of nearly all the officers and scientific men
connected with the expedition.
Thirty-seven years afterwards, Dr. Livingstone had advanced from the
Cape of Good Hope to the Upper Zambesi; thence, with a fearlessness
hitherto unrivalled, he crossed the Coango, an affluent of the Congo,
and after having traversed the continent from the extreme south to the
east he reached St. Paul de Loanda on the 31st of May, 1854, the first
explorer of the unknown portions of the great Portuguese colony.
Eighteen years elapsed, and two other bold travellers crossed the
entire continent from east to west, and after encountering unparalleled
difficulties, emerged, the one to the south, the other to the north of
Angola.
The first of these was Verney Lovett Cameron, a lieutenant in the
British navy. In 1872, when serious doubts were entertained as to the
safety of the expedition sent out under Stanley to the relief of
Livingstone in the great lake district, Lieutenant Cameron volunteered
to go out in search of the noble missionary explorer. His offer was
accepted, and accompanied by Dr. Dillon, Lieutenant Cecil Murphy, and
Robert Moffat, a nephew of Livingstone, he started from Zanzibar.
Having passed through Ugogo, he met Livingstone's corpse, which was
being borne to the eastern coast by his faithful followers. Unshaken in
his resolve to make his way right across the continent, Cameron still
pushed onwards to the west. He passed through Unyanyembe and Uganda,
and reached Kawele, where he secured all Livingstone's papers. After
exploring Lake Tanganyika he crossed the mountains of Bambarre, and
finding himself unable to descend the course of the Lualaba, he
traversed the provinces devastated and depopulated by war and the
slave-trade, Kilemba, Urua, the sources of the Lomami, Ulanda, and
Lovalé, and having crossed the Coanza, he sighted the Atlantic and
reached the port of St. Philip de Benguela, after a journey that had
occupied three years and five months. Cameron's two companions, Dr.
Dillon and Robert Moffat, both succumbed to the hardships of the
expedition.
The intrepid Englishman was soon to be followed into the field by an
American, Mr. Henry Moreland Stanley. It is universally known how the
undaunted correspondent of the -New York Herald-, having been
despatched in search of Livingstone, found the veteran missionary at
Ujiji, on the borders of Lake Tanganyika, on the 31st of October, 1871.
But what he had undertaken in the course of humanity Stanley longed to
continue in the interests of science, his prime object being to make a
thorough investigation of the Lualaba, of which, in his first
expedition, he had only been able to get a partial and imperfect
survey. Accordingly, whilst Cameron was still deep in the provinces of
Central Africa, Stanley started from Bagamoyo in November, 1874.
Twenty-one months later he quitted Ujiji, which had been decimated by
small-pox, and in seventy-four days accomplished the passage of the
lake and reached Nyangwe, a great slave-market previously visited both
by Livingstone and Cameron. He was also present at some of the horrible
razzias, perpetrated by the officers of the Sultan of Zanzibar in the
districts of the Marunzu and Manyuema.
In order to be in a position to descend the Lualaba to its very mouth,
Stanley engaged at Nyangwe 140 porters and nineteen boats. Difficulties
arose from the very outset, and not only had he to contend with the
cannibals of Ugusu, but, in order to avoid many unnavigable cataracts,
he had to convey his boats many miles by land. Near the equator, just
at the point where the Lualaba turns north-north-west, Stanley's little
convoy was attacked by a fleet of boats, manned by several hundred
natives, whom, however, he succeeded in putting to flight. Nothing
daunted, the resolute American pushed on to lat. 20° N. and
ascertained, beyond room for doubt, that the Lualaba was really the
Upper Zaire or Congo, and that, by following its course, he should come
directly to the sea.
Beset with many perils was the way. Stanley was in almost daily
collision with the various tribes upon the river-banks; on the 3rd of
June, 1877, he lost one of his companions, Frank Pocock, at the passage
of the cataracts of Massassa, and on the 18th of July he was himself
carried in his boat into the Mbelo Falls, and escaped by little short
of a miracle.
On the 6th of August the daring adventurer arrived at the village of Ni
Sanda, only four days from the sea; two days later he received a supply
of provisions that had been sent by two Emboma merchants to Banza
M'buko, the little coast-town where, after a journey of two years and
nine months, fraught with every kind of hardship and privation, he
completed his transit of the mighty continent. His toil told, at least
temporarily, upon his years, but he had the grand satisfaction of
knowing that he had traced the whole course of the Lualaba, and had
ascertained, beyond reach of question, that as the Nile is the great
artery of the north, and the Zambesi of the east, so Africa possesses
in the west a third great river, which in a course of no less than 2900
miles, under the names of the Lualaba, Zaire, and Congo, unites the
lake district with the Atlantic Ocean.
In 1873, however, the date at which the "Pilgrim" foundered upon the
coast, very little was known of the province of Angola, except that it
was the scene of the western slave-trade, of which the markets of Bihé,
Cassanga, and Kazunde were the chief centres. This was the country in
which Dick Sands now found himself, a hundred miles from shore, in
charge of a lady exhausted with fatigue and anxiety, a half-dying
child, and a band of negroes who would be a most tempting bait to the
slave-driver.
His last illusion was completely dispelled. He had no longer the
faintest hope that he was in America, that land where little was to be
dreaded from either native, wild beast, or climate; he could no more
cherish the fond impression that he might be in the pleasant region
between the Cordilleras and the coast, where villages are numerous and
missions afford hospitable shelter to every traveller. Far, far away
were those provinces of Bolivia and Peru, to which (unless a criminal
hand had interposed) the "Pilgrim" would certainly have sped her way.
No: too truly this was the terrible province of Angola; and worse than
all, not the district near the coast, under the surveillance of the
Portuguese authorities, but the interior of the country, traversed only
by slave caravans, driven under the lash of the havildars.
Limited, in one sense, was the knowledge that Dick Sands possessed of
this land of horrors; but he had read the accounts that had been given
by the missionaries of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, by the
Portuguese traders who frequented the route from St. Paul de Loanda, by
San Salvador to the Zaire, as well as by Dr. Livingstone in his travels
in 1853, and consequently he knew enough to awaken immediate and
complete despair in any spirit less indomitable than his own.
Anyhow, his position was truly appalling.
[Illustration: They were seated at the foot of an enormous banyan-tree.]
CHAPTER II.
ACCOMPLICES.
On the day following that on which Dick Sands and his party had made
their last halt in the forest, two men met by appointment at a spot
about three miles distant.
The two men were Harris and Negoro, the one lately landed from New
Zealand, the other pursuing his wonted occupation of slave-dealer in
the province of Angola. They were seated at the foot of an enormous
banyan-tree, on the banks of a rushing torrent that streamed between
tall borders of papyrus.
After the conversation had turned awhile upon the events of the last
few hours, Negoro said abruptly,--
"Couldn't you manage to get that young fifteen-year-old any farther
into the interior?"
"No, indeed; it was a hard matter enough to bring him thus far; for the
last few days his suspicions have been wide awake."
"But just another hundred miles, you know," continued Negoro, "would
have finished the business off well, and those black fellows would have
been ours to a dead certainty."
"Don't I tell you, my dear fellow, that it was more than time for me to
give them the slip?" replied Harris, shrugging his shoulders. "Only too
well I knew that our young friend was longing to put a shot into my
body, and that was a sugar-plum I might not be able to digest."
The Portuguese gave a grunt of assent, and Harris went on,--
"For several days I succeeded well enough. I managed to palm off the
country as the forest of Atacama, which you may recollect I once
visited; but when the youngster began to ask for gutta-percha and
humming-birds, and his mother wanted quinquina-trees, and when that old
fool of a cousin was bent on finding cocuyos, I was rather nonplussed.
One day I had to swear that giraffes were ostriches, but the young
captain did not seem to swallow the dose at all easily. Then we saw
traces of elephants and hippopotamuses, which of course are as often
seen in America as an honest man in a Benguela penitentiary; then that
old nigger Tom discovered a lot of forks and chains left by some
runaway slaves at the foot of a tree; but when, last of all, a lion
roared,--and the noise, you know, is rather louder than the mewing of a
cat,--I thought it was time to take my horse and decamp."
Negoro repeated his expression of regret that the whole party had not
been carried another hundred miles into the province.
"It really cannot be helped," rejoined the American; "I have done the
best I could; and I think, mate," he added confidentially, "that you
have done wisely in following the caravan at a good distance; that dog
of theirs evidently owes you a grudge, and might prove an ugly
customer."
"I shall put a bullet into that beast's head before long," growled
Negoro.
"Take care you don't get one through your own first," laughed Harris;
"that young Sands, I warn you, is a first-rate shot, and between
ourselves, is rather a fine fellow of his kind."
"Fine fellow, indeed!" sneered Negoro; "whatever he is, he is a young
upstart, and I have a long score to wipe off against him;" and, as he
spoke, an expression of the utmost malignity passed over his
countenance.
Harris smiled.
"Well, mate," he said; "your travels have not improved your temper, I
see. But come now, tell me what you have been doing all this time. When
I found you just after the wreck, at the mouth of the Longa, you had
only time to ask me to get this party, somehow or other, up into the
country. But it is just upon two years since you left Cassange with
that caravan of slaves for our old master Alvez. What have you been
doing since? The last I heard of you was that you had run foul of an
English cruiser, and that you were condemned to be hanged."
"So I was very nearly," muttered Negoro.
"Ah, well, that will come sooner or later," rejoined the American with
philosophic indifference; "men of our trade can't expect to die quietly
in our beds, you know. But were you caught by the English?"
"No, by the Portuguese."
"Before you had got rid of your cargo?"
Negoro hesitated a moment before replying.
"No," he said, presently, and added, "The Portuguese have changed their
game: for a long time they carried on the trade themselves, but now
they have got wonderfully particular; so I was caught, and condemned to
end my days in the penitentiary at St. Paul de Loanda."
"Confound it!" exclaimed Harris, "a hundred times better be hanged!"
"I'm not so sure of that," the Portuguese replied, "for when I had been
at the galleys about a fortnight I managed to escape, and got into the
hold of an English steamer bound for New Zealand. I wedged myself in
between a cask of water and a case of preserved meat, and so managed to
exist for a month. It was close quarters, I can tell you, but I
preferred to travel incognito rather than run the risk of being handed
over again to the authorities at Loanda."
"Well done!" exclaimed the American, "and so you had a free passage to
the land of the Maoris. But you didn't come back in the same fashion?"
"No; I always had a hankering to be here again at my old trade; but for
a year and a half...."
He stopped abruptly, and grasped Harris by the arm.
"Hush," he whispered, "didn't you hear a rustling in that clump of
papyrus?"
In a moment Harris had caught up his loaded gun; and both men, starting
to their feet, looked anxiously around them.
"It was nothing," said Harris presently; "the stream is swollen by the
storm, that is all; your two years' travelling has made you forget the
sounds of the forest, mate. Sit down again, and go on with your story.
When I know the past, I shall be better able to talk about the future."
They reseated themselves, and Negoro went on,--
"For a whole year and a half I vegetated at Auckland. I left the hold
of the steamer without a dollar in my pocket, and had to turn my hand
to every trade imaginable in order to get a living."
"Poor fellow! I daresay you even tried the trade of being an honest
man," put in the American.
"Just so," said Negoro, "and in course of time the 'Pilgrim,' the
vessel by which I came here, put in at Auckland. While she was waiting
to take Mrs. Weldon and her party on board, I applied to the captain
for a post, for I was once mate on board a slaver, and know something
of seamanship. The 'Pilgrim's' crew was complete, but fortunately the
ship's cook had just deserted; I offered to supply his place; in
default of better my services were accepted, and in a few days we were
out of sight of New Zealand."
"I have heard something about the voyage from young Sands," said
Harris, "but even now I can't understand how you reached here."
"Neither does he," said Negoro, with a malicious grin. "I will tell you
now, and you may repeat the story to your young friend if you like."
"Well, go on," said Harris.
"When we started," continued Negoro, "it was my intention to sail only
as far as Chili: that would have brought me nearly half way to Angola;
but three weeks after leaving Auckland, Captain Hull and all his crew
were lost in chasing a whale, and I and the apprentice were the only
seamen left on board."
"Then why in the name of peace didn't you take command of the ship?"
exclaimed Harris.
[Illustration: Both men, starting to their feet, looked anxiously
around them.]
"Because there were five strong niggers who didn't trust me; so, on
second thoughts, I determined to keep my old post as cook."
"Then do you mean to say that it was mere accident that brought you to
the coast of Africa?"
"Not a bit of it; the only accident,--and a very lucky one it was--was
meeting you on the very spot where we stranded. But it was my doing
that we got so far. Young Sands understood nothing more of navigation
than the use of the log and compass. Well, one fine day, you
understand, the log remained at the bottom of the sea, and one night
the compass was tampered with, so that the 'Pilgrim,' scudding along
before a tempest, was carried altogether out of her course. You may
imagine the young captain was puzzled at the length of the voyage; it
would have bewildered a more experienced head than his. Before he was
aware of it, we had rounded Cape Horn; I recognized it through the
mist. Then at once I put the compass to rights again, and the 'Pilgrim'
was carried north-eastwards by a tremendous hurricane to the very place
I wanted. The island Dick Sands took for Easter Island was really
Tristan d'Acunha."
"Good!" said Harris; "I think I understand now how our friends have
been persuaded to take Angola for Bolivia. But they are undeceived now,
you know," he added.
"I know all about that," replied the Portuguese.
"Then what do you intend to do?" said Harris.
"You will see," answered Negoro significantly; "but first of all tell
me something about our employer, old Alvez; how is he?"
"Oh, the old rascal is well enough, and will be delighted to see you
again," replied Harris.
"Is he at the market at Bihé?"
"No, he has been at his place at Kazonndé for a year or more."
"And how does business go on?"
"Badly enough, on this coast," said Harris; "plenty of slaves are
waiting to be shipped to the Spanish colonies, but the difficulty is
how to get them embarked. The Portuguese authorities on the one hand,
and the English cruisers on the other, almost put a stop to exportation
altogether; down to the south, near Mossamedes, is the only part where
it can be attempted with any chance of success. To pass a caravan
through Benguela or Loande is an utter impossibility; neither the
governors nor the chefés[1] will listen to a word of reason. Old Alvez
is therefore thinking of going in the other direction towards Nyangwe
and Lake Tanganyika; he can there exchange his goods for slaves and
ivory, and is sure to do a good business with Upper Egypt and the coast
of Mozambique, which supplies Madagascar. But I tell you, Negoro," he
added gravely, "I believe the time is coming when the slave-trade will
come to an end altogether. The English missionaries are advancing into
the interior. That fellow Livingstone, confound him! has finished his
tour of the lakes, and is now working his way towards Angola; then
there is another man named Cameron who is talking about crossing the
continent from east to west, and it is feared that Stanley the American
will do the same. All this exploration, you know, is ruinous to our
business, and it is to our interest that not one of these travellers
should be allowed to return to tell tales of us in Europe."
[Footnote 1: Subordinate Portuguese governors at secondary stations.]
Harris spoke like a merchant embarrassed by a temporary commercial
crisis. The atrocious scenes to which the slave-dealers are accustomed
seems to render them impervious to all sense of justice or humanity,
and they learn to regard their living merchandize with as small concern
as though they were dealing with chests of tea or hogsheads of sugar.
But Harris was right when he asserted that civilization must follow the
wake of the intrepid pioneers of African discovery. Livingstone first,
and after him, Grant, Speke, Burton, Cameron, Stanley, are the heroes
whose names will ever be linked with the first dawnings of a brighter
age upon the dark wilds of Equatorial Africa.
Having ascertained that his accomplice had returned unscrupulous and
daring as ever, and fully prepared to pursue his former calling as an
agent of old Alvez the slave dealer, Harris inquired what he proposed
doing with the survivors of the "Pilgrim" now that they were in his
hands.
"Divide them into two lots," answered Negoro, without a moment's
hesitation, "one for the market, the other...."
He did not finish his sentence, but the expression of his countenance
was an index to the malignity of his purpose.
"Which shall you sell?" asked the American.
"The niggers, of course. The old one is not worth much, but the other
four ought to fetch a good price at Kazonndé."
"Yes, you are right," said Harris; "American-born slaves, with plenty
of work in them, are rare articles, and very different to the miserable
wretches we get up the country. But you never told me," he added,
suddenly changing the subject, "whether you found any money on board
the 'Pilgrim'!"
"Oh, I rescued a few hundred dollars from the wreck, that was all,"
said the Portuguese carelessly; "but I am expecting...." he stopped
short.
"What are you expecting?" inquired Harris eagerly.
"Oh, nothing, nothing," said Negoro, apparently annoyed that he had
said so much, and immediately began talking of the means of securing
the living prey which he had been taking so many pains to entrap.
Harris informed him that on the Coanza, about ten miles distant, there
was at the present time encamped a slave caravan, under the control of
an Arab named Ibn Hamish; plenty of native soldiers were there on
guard, and if Dick Sands and his people could only be induced to travel
in that direction, their capture would be a matter of very little
difficulty. He said that of course Dick Sands' first thought would
naturally be how to get back to the coast; it was not likely that he
would venture a second time through the forest, but would in all
probability try to make his way to the nearest river, and descend its
course on a raft to the sea. The nearest river was undoubtedly the
Coanza, so that he and Negoro might feel quite sure of meeting "their
friends" upon its banks.
"If you really think so," said Negoro, "there is not much time to be
lost; whatever young Sands determines to do, he will do at once: he
never lets the grass grow under his feet."
"Let us start, then, this very moment, mate," was Harris's reply.
Both rose to their feet, when they were startled by the same rustling
in the papyrus which had previously aroused Negoro's fears. Presently a
low growl was heard, and a large dog, showing his teeth, emerged from
the bushes, evidently prepared for an attack.
"It's Dingo!" exclaimed Harris.
"Confound the brute! he shall not escape me this time," said Negoro.
He caught up Harris's gun, and raising it to his shoulder, he fired
just as the dog was in the act of springing at his throat. A long whine
of pain followed the report, and Dingo disappeared again amongst the
bushes that fringed the stream. Negoro was instantly upon his track,
but could discover nothing beyond a few blood-stains upon the stalks of
the papyrus, and a long crimson trail upon the pebbles on the bank.
"I think I have done for the beast now," was Negoro's remark as he
returned from his fruitless search.
Harris, who had been a silent spectator of the whole scene, now asked
coolly,--
"What makes that animal have such an inveterate dislike to you?"
"Oh, there is an old score to settle between us," replied the
Portuguese.
"What about?" inquired the American.
Negoro made no reply, and finding him evidently disinclined to be
communicative on the subject, Harris did not press the matter any
further.
A few moments later the two men were descending the stream, and making
their way through the forest towards the Coanza.
[Illustration: Dingo disappeared again amongst the bushes]
CHAPTER III.
ON THE MARCH AGAIN.
"Africa! Africa!" was the terrible word that echoed and re-echoed in
the mind of Dick Sands. As he pondered over the events of the preceding
weeks he could now understand why, notwithstanding the rapid progress
of the ship, the land seemed ever to be receding, and why the voyage
had been prolonged to twice its anticipated length. It remained,
however, a mystery inexplicable as before, how and when they had
rounded Cape Horn and passed into another ocean. Suddenly the idea
flashed upon him that the compass must have been tampered with; and he
remembered the fall of the first compass; he recalled the night when he
had been roused by Tom's cry of alarm that Negoro had fallen against
the binnacle. As he recollected these circumstances he became more and
more convinced that it was Negoro who was the mainspring of all the
mischief; that it was he who had contrived the loss of the "Pilgrim,"
and compromised the safety of all on board.
What had been the career, what could be the motives of a man who was
capable of such vile machinations?
But shrouded in mystery as were the events of the past, the present
offered a prospect equally obscure.
Beyond the fact that he was in Africa and a hundred miles from the
coast, Dick knew absolutely nothing. He could only conjecture that he
was in the fatal province of Angola, and assured as he was that Harris
had acted the traitor, he was led to the conclusion that he and Negoro
had been playing into each other's hands. The result of the collision,
he feared, might be very disastrous to the survivors of the "Pilgrim."
Yet, in what manner would the odious stratagem be accomplished? Dick
could well understand that the negroes would be sold for slaves; he
could only too easily imagine that upon himself Negoro would wreak the
vengeance he had so obviously been contemplating; but for Mrs. Weldon
and the other helpless members of the party what fate could be in store?
The situation was terrible, but yet Dick did not flinch; he had been
appointed captain, and captain he would remain; Mrs. Weldon and her
little son had been committed to his charge, and he was resolved to
carry out his trust faithfully to the end.
For several hours he remained wrapped in thought, pondering over the
present and the future, weighing the evil chances against the good,
only to be convinced that the evil much preponderated. At length he
rose, firm, resolute, calm. The first glimmer of dawn was breaking upon
the forest. All the rest of the party, except Tom, were fast asleep.
Dick Sands crept softly up to the old negro, and whispered:--
"Tom, you know now where we are!"
"Yes, yes, Mr. Dick, only too well I know it. We are in Africa!"
The old man sighed mournfully.
"Tom," said Dick, in the same low voice, "you must keep this a secret;
you must not say a word to let Mrs. Weldon or any of the others know."
The old man murmured his assent, and Dick continued:--
"It will be quite enough for them to learn that we have been betrayed
by Harris, and that we must consequently practise extra care and
watchfulness; they will merely think we are taking precautions against
being surprised by nomad Indians. I trust to your good sense, Tom, to
assist me in this."
"You may depend upon me, Mr. Dick; and I can promise you that we will
all do our best to prove our courage, and to show our devotion to your
service."
[Illustration: "You must keep this a secret"]
Thus assured of Tom's co-operation, Dick proceeded to deliberate upon
his future line of action. He had every reason to believe that the
treacherous American, startled by the traces of the slaves and the
unexpected roaring of the lion, had taken flight before he had
conducted his victims to the spot where they were to be attacked, and
that consequently some hours might elapse before he would be joined by
Negoro, who (to judge from Dingo's strange behaviour) had undoubtedly
for the last few days been somewhere on their track.
Here was a delay that might be turned to good account, and no time was
to be lost in taking advantage of it to commence their return journey
to the coast. If, as Dick had every reason to suppose, he was in
Angola, he hoped to find, either north or south, some Portuguese
settlement whence he could obtain the means of transporting his party
to their several homes.
But how was this return journey to be accomplished? It would be
difficult, not to say imprudent, to retrace their footsteps through the
forest; it would merely bring them to their starting-point, and would,
moreover, afford an easy track for Negoro or his accomplices to follow.
The safest and most secret means of reaching the coast would assuredly
be by descending the course of some river. This would have to be
effected by constructing a strong raft, from which the little party,
well armed, might defend themselves alike from attacks either of the
natives or of wild beasts, and which would likewise afford a
comfortable means of transport for Mrs. Weldon and her little boy, who
were now deprived of the use of Harris's horse. The negroes, it is
true, would be only too pleased to carry the lady on a litter of
branches, but this would be to occupy the services of two out of five,
and under the circumstances it was manifestly advisable that all hands
should be free to act on the defensive. Another great inducement
towards the plan was that Dick Sands felt himself much more at home in
travelling by water than by land, and was longing to be once again upon
what to him was, as it were, his native element. He little dreamt that
he was devising for himself the very plan that Harris, in his
speculations, had laid down for him!
The most urgent matter was now to find such a stream as would suit
their purpose. Dick had several reasons for feeling sure that one
existed in the neighbourhood. He knew that the little river, which fell
into the Atlantic near the spot where the "Pilgrim" stranded, could not
extend very far either to the north or east, because the horizon was
bounded in both directions by the chain of mountains which he had taken
for the Cordilleras. If the stream did not rise in those hills it must
incline to the south, so that in either case Dick was convinced he
could not be long in discovering it or one of its affluents. Another
sign, which he recognized as hopeful, was that during the last few
miles of the march the soil had become moist and level, whilst here and
there the appearance of tiny rivulets indicated that an aqueous network
existed in the subsoil. On the previous day, too, the caravan had
skirted a rushing torrent, of which the waters were tinged with oxide
of iron from its sloping banks.
Dick's scheme was to make his way back as far as this stream, which
though not navigable itself would in all probability empty itself into
some affluent of greater importance. The idea, which he imparted to
Tom, met with the old negro's entire approval.
As the day dawned the sleepers, one by one, awoke. Mrs. Weldon laid
little Jack in Nan's arms. The child was still dozing; the fever had
abated, but he looked painfully white and exhausted after the attack.
"Dick," said Mrs. Weldon, after looking round her, "where is Mr.
Harris? I cannot see him."
"Harris has left us," answered Dick very quietly.
"Do you mean that he has gone on ahead?"
"No, madam, I mean that he has left us, and gone away entirely: he is
in league with Negoro."
"In league with Negoro!" cried Mrs. Weldon, "Ah, I have had a fancy
lately that there has been something wrong: but why? what can be their
motive?"
"Indeed I am unable to tell you," replied Dick; "I only know that we
have no alternative but to return to the coast immediately if we would
escape the two rascals."
[Illustration: "Harris has left us"]
"I only wish I could catch them," said Hercules, who had overheard the
conversation; "I would soon knock their heads together;" and he shook
his two fists in giving emphasis to his words.
"But what will become of my boy?" cried Mrs. Weldon, in tones of
despondency; "I have been so sanguine in procuring him the comforts of
San Felice."
"Master Jack will be all right enough, madam, when we get into a more
healthy situation near the coast," said Tom.
"But is there no farm anywhere near? no village? no shelter?" she
pleaded.
"None whatever, madam; I can only repeat that it is absolutely
necessary that we make the best of our way back to the sea-shore."
"Are you quite sure, Dick, that Mr. Harris has deceived us?"
Dirk felt that he should be glad to avoid any discussion on the
subject, but with a warning glance at Tom, he proceeded to say that on
the previous night he and Tom had discovered the American's treachery,
and that if he had not instantly taken to his horse and fled he would
have answered for his guilt with his life. Without, however, dwelling
for a moment more than he could avoid upon the past, he hurried on to
detail the means by which he now proposed to reach the sea, concluding
by the assertion that he hoped a very few miles' march would bring them
to a stream on which they might be able to embark.
Mrs. Weldon, thoroughly ignoring her own weakness, professed her
readiness not only to walk, but to carry Jack too. Bat and Austin at
once volunteered to carry her in a litter; of this the lady would not
hear, and bravely repeated her intention of travelling on foot,
announcing her willingness to start without further delay. Dick Sands
was only too glad to assent to her wish.
"Let me take Master Jack," said Hercules; "I shall be out of my element
if I have nothing to carry."
The giant, without waiting for a reply, took the child from Nan's arms
so gently that he did not even rouse him from his slumber.
The weapons were next carefully examined, and the provisions, having
been repacked into one parcel, were consigned to the charge of Actæon,
who undertook to carry them on his back.
Cousin Benedict, whose wiry limbs seemed capable of bearing any amount
of fatigue, was quite ready to start. It was doubtful whether he had
noticed Harris's disappearance; he was suffering from a loss which to
him was of far greater importance. He had mislaid his spectacles and
magnifying-glass. It had happened that Bat had picked them up in the
long grass, close to the spot where the amateur naturalist had been
lying, but acting on a hint from Dick Sands, he said nothing about
them; in this way the entomologist, who, without his glasses could
scarcely see a yard beyond his face, might be expected to be kept
without trouble in the limits of the ranks, and having been placed
between Actæon and Austin with strict injunctions not to leave their
side, he followed them as submissively as a blind man in
leading-strings.
The start was made. But scarcely had the little troop advanced fifty
yards upon their way, when Tom suddenly cried out,--
"Where's Dingo?"
With all the force of his tremendous lungs, Hercules gave a series of
reverberating shouts:--
"Dingo! Dingo! Dingo!"
Not a bark could be distinguished in reply
"Dingo! Dingo! Dingo!" again echoed in the air.
But all was silence.
Dick was intensely annoyed at the non-appearance of the dog; his
presence would have been an additional safeguard in the event of any
sudden surprise.
"Perhaps he has followed Harris," suggested Tom.
"Far more likely he is on the track of Negoro," rejoined Dick.
"Then Negoro, to a dead certainty," said Hercules, "will put a bullet
into his head."
"It is to be hoped," replied Bat, "that Dingo will strangle him first."
Dick Sands, disguising his vexation, said,
"At any rate, we have no time to wait for the animal now: if he is
alive, he will not fail to find us out. Move on, my lads! move on!"
The weather was very hot; ever since daybreak heavy clouds had been
gathering upon the horizon, and it seemed hardly likely that the day
would pass without a storm. Fortunately the woods were sufficiently
light to ensure a certain amount of freshness to the surface of the
soil. Here and there were large patches of tall, rank grass enclosed by
clumps of forest trees. In some places, fossilized trunks, lying on the
ground, betokened the existence of one of the coal districts that are
common upon the continent of Africa. Along the glades the carpet of
verdure was relieved by crimson stems and a variety of flowers;
ginger-blossoms, blue and yellow, pale lobelias, and red orchids
fertilized by the numerous insects that incessantly hovered about them.
The trees did not grow in impenetrable masses of one species, but
exhibited themselves in infinite variety. There was also a species of
palm producing an oil locally much valued; there were cotton-plants
growing in bushes eight or ten feet high, the cotton attached in long
shreds to the ligneous stalks; and there were copals from which,
pierced by the proboscis of certain insects, exudes an odorous resin
that flows on to the ground and is collected by the natives. Then there
were citrons and wild pomegranates and a score of other arborescent
plants, all testifying to the fertility of this plateau of Central
Africa. In many places, too, the air was fragrant with the odour of
vanilla, though it was not possible to discover the shrub from which
the perfume emanated.
In spite of it being the dry season, so that the soil had only been
moistened by occasional storms, all trees and plants were flourishing
in great luxuriance. It was the time of year for fever, but, according
to Dr. Livingstone's observation, the disorder may generally be cured
by quitting the locality where it has been contracted. Dick expressed
his hope that, in little Jack's case, the words of the great traveller
would be verified, and in encouragement of this sanguine view, pointed
out to Mrs. Weldon that although it was past the time for the
periodical return of the fever, the child was still slumbering quietly
in Hercules' arms.
The march was continued with as much rapidity as was consistent with
caution. Occasionally, where the bushes and brushwood had been broken
down by the recent passage of men or beasts, progress was comparatively
easy; but much more frequently, greatly to Dick's annoyance, obstacles
of various sorts impeded their advance. Climbing plants grew in such
inextricable confusion that they could only be compared to a ship's
rigging involved in hopeless entanglement; there were creepers
resembling curved scimitars, thickly covered with sharp thorns; there
were likewise strange growths, like vegetable serpents, fifty or sixty
feet long, which seemed to have a cruel faculty for torturing every
passenger with their prickly spines. Axe in hand, the negroes had
repeatedly to cut their road through these bewildering obstructions
that clothed the trees from their summit to their base.
Animal life was no less remarkable in its way than the vegetation.
Birds in great variety flitted about in the ample foliage, secure from
any stray shot from the little band, whose chief object it was to
preserve its incognito. Guinea-fowls were seen in considerable numbers,
francolins in several varieties, and a few specimens of the bird to
which the Americans, in imitation of their note, have given the name of
"whip-poor-will." If Dick had not had too much evidence in other ways
to the contrary, he might almost have imagined himself in a province of
the New World.
Hitherto they had been unmolested by any dangerous wild beasts. During
the present stage of their march a herd of giraffes, startled by their
unexpected approach, rushed fleetly past; this time, however, without
being represented as ostriches. Occasionally a dense cloud of dust on
the edge of the prairie, accompanied by a sound like the roll of
heavily-laden chariots, betokened the flight of a herd of buffaloes;
but with these exceptions no animal of any magnitude appeared in view.
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