my arrival gave the usual reprimand, which invariably was
as amusing as it was earnest.
“ What are you doing staying alone ? The boys are far
away, and there is a lot of gente [people] in this town.”
No sooner did we reach the first hut of the village thn.n
a rushing crowd of people was observed, many of whom
fell over one another, as though in a stampede through
dreadful fear. Some men were coupled by the two-forked
yokes, fastened together with bark rope, while others had
on the single stick or yoke. A number of women were tied
neck to neck.
“ What the devil is the matter, Mara ? ”
No response was made, but on my repeating the question
more vehemently and emphatically, the answer came, short
and pointed:
“ Gente comprada! Vamos!” (“ People who have been
bought! Let us go o n ! ”)
But here there was no going on for me. I was determined
to see what was being done, hurry or no hurry.
The throngs of blacks were jostled and shoved into all sorts
of comers, and herded into the cane-wall enclosures of the
huts. The meaning of the scene was that I had alighted
at a secluded village, where a number of kidnapped slaves
had been brought en route to some headquarters, for they
were not people of the district. The slimy visage of a
man robed in white—he himself was of Satanic blackness—
suggested to me that the agents of my previous acquaintance,
Saiide or Xuala, were bringing in an assortment of the
human commodity.
Possibly the reader can guess what my feelings were; I
should have liked with a single bound to have been in the
midst of the harshly-used creatures, to strip from their
suffering bodies the tyrant’s thongs and fetters. Under
SURPRISING A SLAVER.