"In what sort of goods do you trade?"
"Ivory. Some be white, an' some be what your contrymans do call black."
"Black!" exclaimed Harold, in surprise.
"Yees, black," replied the trader. "White ivory do come from the
elephant--hims tusk; Black Ivory do come,"--he smiled slightly at this
point--"from the land everywheres. It bees our chef artikil of trade."
"Indeed! I never heard of it before."
"No?" replied the trader; "you shall see it much here. But I go talk
with my mans. Wait."
Saying this, in a tone which savoured somewhat unpleasantly of command,
the Arab went towards a small hut near to which his men were standing,
and entered into conversation with them.
It was evident that they were ill pleased with what he said at first for
there was a good deal of remonstrance in their tones, while they pointed
frequently in a certain direction which seemed to indicate the
coast-line; but by degrees their tones changed, and they laughed and
chuckled a good deal, as if greatly tickled by the speech of the Arab,
who, however, maintained a look of dignified gravity all the time.
"I don't like the looks o' them fellers," remarked Disco, after
observing them in silence for some time. "They're a cut-throat set, I'm
quite sure, an' if you'll take my advice, Mister Seadrift, we'll give
'em the slip, an' try to hunt up one o' the native villages. I
shouldn't wonder, now, if that chap was a slave-trader."
"The same idea has occurred to myself, Disco," replied Harold, "and I
would willingly leave him if I thought there was a town or village
within twenty miles of us; but we are ignorant on that point and I have
heard enough of the African climate to believe that it might cost us our
lives if we were obliged to spend a night in the jungle without fire,
food, or covering, and with nothing on but a wet flannel shirt and pair
of canvas breeches. No, no, lad, we must not risk it. Besides,
although some Arabs are slave-traders, it does not follow that all are.
This fellow may turn out better than he looks."
Disco Lillihammer experienced some sensations of surprise on hearing his
young friend's remarks on the climate, for he knew nothing whatever
about that of Africa, having sailed chiefly in the Arctic Seas as a
whaler,--and laboured under the delusion that no climate under the sun
could in any degree affect his hardy and well-seasoned frame. He was
too respectful, however, to let his thoughts be known.
Meanwhile the Arab returned.
"I sail this night," he said, "when moon go down. That not far before
midnight. You mus keep by boat here--close. If you go this way or that
the niggers kill you. They not come _here_; they know I is here. I go
look after my goods and chattels--my Black Ivory."
"Mayn't we go with 'ee, mister--what's your name?"
"My name?--Yoosoof," replied the Arab, in a tone and with a look which
were meant to command respect.
"Well, Mister Yoosoof," continued Disco, "if we may make bold to ax
leave for to go with 'ee, we could lend 'ee a helpin' hand, d'ye see, to
carry yer goods an' chattels down to the boat."
"There is no need," said Yoosoof, waving his hand, and pointing to the
hut before mentioned. "Go; you can rest till we sail. Sleep; you will
need it. There is littil rice in hut--eat that, and make fire, dry
youselfs."
So saying, the Arab left them by a path leading into the woods, along
which his men, who were Portuguese half-castes, had preceded him.
"Make fire indeed!" exclaimed Disco, as he walked with his companion to
the hut; "one would think, from the free-and-easy way in which he tells
us to make it, that he's in the habit himself of striking it out o' the
point o' his own nose, or some such convenient fashion."
"More likely to flash it out of his eyes, I should think," said Harold;
"but, see here, the fellow knew what he was talking about. There is
fire among these embers on the hearth."
"That's true," replied Disco, going down on his knees, and blowing them
carefully.
In a few minutes a spark leaped into a flame, wood was heaped on, and
the flame speedily became a rousing fire, before which they dried their
garments, while a pot of rice was put on to boil.
Scarcely had they proceeded thus far in their preparations, when two
men, armed with muskets, were seen to approach, leading a negro girl
between them. As they drew nearer, it was observable that the girl had
a brass ring round her neck, to which a rope was attached.
"A slave!" exclaimed Disco vehemently, while the blood rushed to his
face; "let's set her free!"
The indignant seaman had half sprung to his legs before Harold seized
and pulled him forcibly back.
"Be quiet man," said Harold quickly. "If we _could_ free her by
fighting, I would help you, but we can't. Evidently we have got into a
nest of slavers. Rashness will only bring about our own death. Be
wise; bide your time, and we may live to do some good yet."
He stopped abruptly, for the new comers had reached the top of the
winding path that led to the hut.
A look of intense surprise overspread the faces of the two men when they
entered and saw the Englishmen sitting comfortably by the fire, and
both, as if by instinct threw forward the muzzles of their muskets.
"Oh! come in, come in, make your minds easy," cried Disco, in a
half-savage tone, despite the warning he had received; "we're all
_friends_ here--leastwise we can't help ourselves."
Fortunately for our mariner the men did not understand him, and before
they could make up their minds what to think of it, or how to act Harold
rose, and, with a polite bow, invited them to enter.
"Do you understand English?" he asked.
A frown, and a decided shake of the head from both men, was the reply.
The poor negro girl cowered behind her keepers, as if she feared that
violence were about to ensue.
Having tried French with a like result, Harold uttered the name,
"Yoosoof," and pointed in the direction in which the trader had entered
the woods.
The men looked intelligently at each other, and nodded.
Then Harold said "Zanzibar," and pointed in the direction in which he
supposed that island lay.
Again the men glanced at each other, and nodded. Harold next said
"Boat--dhow," and pointed towards the creek, which remark and sign were
received as before.
"Good," he continued, slapping himself on the chest, and pointing to his
companion, "_I_ go to Zanzibar, _he_ goes, _she_ goes," (pointing to the
girl), "_you_ go, and Yoosoof goes--all in the dhow together to
Zanzibar--to-night--when moon goes down. D'ee understand? Now then,
come along and have some rice."
He finished up by slapping one of the men on the shoulder, and lifting
the kettle off the fire, for the rice had already been cooked and only
wanted warming.
The men looked once again at each other, nodded, laughed, and sat down
on a log beside the fire, opposite to the Englishmen.
They were evidently much perplexed by the situation, and, not knowing
what to make of it, were disposed in the meantime to be friendly.
While they were busy with the rice, Disco gazed in silent wonder, and
with intense pity, at the slave-girl, who sat a little to one side of
her guardians on a mat, her small hands folded together resting on one
knee, her head drooping, and her eyes cast down. The enthusiastic tar
found it very difficult to restrain his feelings. He had heard, of
course, more or less about African slavery from shipmates, but he had
never read about it, and had never seriously given his thoughts to it,
although his native sense of freedom, justice, and fair-play had roused
a feeling of indignation in his breast whenever the subject chanced to
be discussed by him and his mates. But now, for the first time in his
life, suddenly and unexpectedly, he was brought face to face with
slavery. No wonder that he was deeply moved.
"Why, Mister Seadrift," he said, in the confidential tone of one who
imparts a new discovery, "I do honestly confess to 'ee that I think
that's a _pretty_ girl!"
"I quite agree with you," replied Harold, smiling.
"Ay, but I mean _really_ pretty, you know. I've always thought that all
niggers had ugly flat noses an' thick blubber lips. But look at that
one: her lips are scarce a bit thicker than those of many a good-looking
lass in England, and they don't stick out at all, and her nose ain't
flat a bit. It's quite as good as my Nancy's nose, an' that's sayin' a
good deal, _I_ tell 'ee. Moreover, she ain't black--she's brown."
It is but justice to Disco to say that he was right in his observations,
and to explain that the various negro tribes in Africa differ very
materially from each other; some of them, as we are told by Dr
Livingstone, possessing little of what, in our eyes, seems the
characteristic ugliness of the negro--such as thick lips, flat noses,
protruding heels, etcetera,--but being in every sense handsome races of
humanity.
The slave-girl whom Disco admired and pitied so much belonged to one of
these tribes, and, as was afterwards ascertained, had been brought from
the far interior. She appeared to be very young, nevertheless there was
a settled expression of meek sorrow and suffering on her face; and
though handsomely formed, she was extremely thin, no doubt from
prolonged hardships on the journey down to the coast.
"Here, have somethin' to eat," exclaimed Disco, suddenly filling a tin
plate with rice, and carrying it to the girl, who, however, shook her
head without raising her eyes.
"You're not hungry, poor thing," said the seaman, in a disappointed
tone; "you look as if you should be. Come, try it," he added, stooping,
and patting her head.
The poor child looked up as if frightened, and shrank from the seaman's
touch, but on glancing a second time in his honest face, she appeared to
feel confidence in him. Nevertheless, she would not touch the rice
until her guardians said something to her sternly, when she began to eat
with an appetite that was eloquent.
"Come, now, tell us what your name is, lass," said Disco, when she had
finished the rice.
Of course the girl shook her head, but appeared to wish to understand
the question, while the Portuguese laughed and seemed amused with the
Englishman's eccentricities.
"Look here, now," resumed the tar, slapping his own chest vigorously,
"Disco, Disco, Disco, that's me--Disco. And this man," (patting his
companion on the breast) "is Harold, Harold, that's him--Harold. Now,
then," he added, pointing straight at the girl, "you--what's you name,
eh?"
A gleam of intelligence shot from the girl's expressive eyes, and she
displayed a double row of beautiful teeth as in a low soft voice she
said--"Azinte."
"Azinte? come, that's not a bad name; why, it's a capital one. Just
suited to 'ee. Well, Azinte, my poor girl," said Disco, with a fresh
outburst of feeling, as he clenched his horny right hand and dashed it
into the palm of his left, "if I only knew how to set you free just now,
my dear, I'd do it--ay, if I was to be roasted alive for so doin'. I
would!"
"You'll never set anybody free in this world," said Harold Seadrift,
with some severity, "if you go on talking and acting as you have done
to-day. If these men had not, by good fortune, been ignorant of our
language, it's my opinion that they would have blown our brains out
before this time. You should restrain yourself, man," he continued,
gradually dropping into a remonstrative and then into an earnestly
confidential tone; "we are utterly helpless just now. If you did
succeed in freeing that girl at this moment, it would only be to let her
fall into the hands of some other slave-owner. Besides, that would not
set free all the other slaves, male and female, who are being dragged
from the interior of Africa. You and I _may_ perhaps do some small
matter in the way of helping to free slaves, if we keep quiet and watch
our opportunity, but we shall accomplish nothing if you give way to
useless bursts of anger."
Poor Lillihammer was subdued.
"You're right Mister Seadrift, you're right, sir, and I'm a ass. I
never _could_ keep my feelings down. It's all along of my havin' bin
made too much of by my mother, dear old woman, w'en I was a boy. But
I'll make a effort, sir; I'll clap a stopper on 'em--bottle 'em up and
screw 'em down tight, werry tight indeed."
Disco again sent his right fist into the palm of his left hand, with
something like the sound of a pistol-shot to the no small surprise and
alarm of the Portuguese, and, rising, went out to cool his heated brow
in the open air.