There exists an extensive district on the west coast of Africa, about
forty miles to the north of the far-famed river Niger, known as the
Yoruba country. Sixty years ago it was one of the most thickly
populated and flourishing parts of equatorial Africa, the inhabitants
having also attained to a considerable amount of civilisation, and made
fair progress in many industrial arts.
Then came those dreadful wars, carried on by the more powerful and cruel
chiefs, for the purpose of making slaves to sell to the white traders,
who carried them away to toil in the plantations of North and South
America and Cuba, and the prosperity of the once happy people of Yoruba
was brought to an end. The savage rulers of Dahomey and Lagos now
became notorious for the barbarities they inflicted on the unoffending
tribes in their neighbourhood. The Yoruba country was the chief scene
of their hunting expeditions. Towns and villages were attacked and
burned; the able-bodied men and young women and children were carried
off into slavery; the aged were ruthlessly murdered, fields and
plantations were laid waste, and a howling wilderness was left behind.
At length the scattered remnants of the population who had escaped from
slavery and death assembled together in a spot among rocks, especially
strong by nature, where they hoped to be able to make a stand against
their persecutors. Here they built a town, to which they gave the name
of Abbeokuta, or the place among the rocks. It increased rapidly in
population and extent, for numerous were the unfortunates in search of a
home, and rest, and peace.
Lagos, one of the chief strongholds of the slave-dealers, which the
Yorubans most had to fear, has since been taken possession of by the
British, and has been declared an English colony or settlement; but
Dahomey, governed by its bloodthirsty monarch, with his army of six
thousand Amazons and five thousand male warriors, still exists as a
terrible scourge to the surrounding territories.
On the confines of the Yoruba country existed a beautiful village which
had hitherto escaped the ravages of the relentless slave-hunting foe.
It was situated on the banks of a rapid stream, which gave freshness to
the air, and fertility to the neighbouring plantations. Palms, dates,
and other trees of tropical growth, overshadowed the leaf-thatched
cottages, in which truly peace and plenty might be said to reign.
Although true happiness cannot exist where Christianity is not, and
where the fear of the fetish and the malign influence of the spirit of
evil rules supreme over the mind, the people were contented, and
probably as happy as are any of the countless numbers of the still
benighted children of Africa, Rumours of wars and slave-hunts reached
them, but they had so long escaped the inflictions others had suffered,
that they flattered themselves they should escape altogether. So little
accustomed are the negro race to look to the future, contented with the
pleasures of the passing moment, that as they did not actually see the
danger, they allowed no anticipation of evil to mar their happiness.
The hearts of the dark-skinned children of that burning clime are as
susceptible of the tender sentiments of love and friendship as many of
those boasting a higher degree of civilisation, and a complexion of a
fairer hue. No couple, indeed, could have been more warmly attached
than were young Orlo and Era, who had lately become man and wife, and
taken up their abode in the village. They were industrious and happy,
and from morning till night their voices might be heard singing as they
went about their daily work. Orlo employed himself principally in
collecting the various products of the country to sell to the traders
who occasionally visited the district,--palm oil, and gold dust from the
neighbouring rivulet, and elephants' tusks, and skins which he took in
the chase.
At length Era gave birth to a child, a little boy, which proved a great
addition to their happiness, and drew still closer the bonds of their
affection. Indeed no people can be fonder of their children than are
the negroes of Africa.
Soon after little Sobo was born Orlo set off on a hunting expedition
with several other villagers, telling Era that he must get her some
fresh soft skins for their child's bed, and that he must be more
industrious than ever, as he had a family to provide for.
Era entreated him not to be long away.
"Two or three days will see me back, laden with the spoils of the
chase," was his answer, in a cheerful tone.
Era's heart sank within her--why, she could not tell. With anxious eyes
she watched him and his companions as, with bows, and arrows, and lances
in hand, they disappeared among the trees.
Seldom had Orlo and his party been more successful. More than one lion,
several antelopes, and numerous monkeys were killed. Even a huge
elephant was conquered by their skill and cunning. The skins of the
animals slaughtered were hidden in safe places, to be taken up on their
return. Excited by their success they proceeded even farther than they
intended. Night surprised them, and collecting together they formed a
camp, with fires blazing in the centre to keep off the savage beasts
roaming around.
Their supper having been discussed, they were merrily laughing and
talking over their adventures when they were startled by some terrific
shouts and cries close to them. They grasped their arms, but before a
bow could be drawn a body of warriors rushed in on them with clubs and
swords, knocking over or cutting down all who stood at bay or attempted
resistance. Some endeavoured to escape, but they were completely
surrounded. Several were killed by their savage assailants, and their
bodies were left where they fell. The greater number were secured with
their arms bound tightly behind them, and they found themselves captives
to the troops of the King of Dahomey, towards whose capital they were
marched away in triumph. They had heard enough of the fate which had
befallen so many of their countrymen to know that they must never more
expect to taste the sweets of liberty; but they were scarcely aware of
the horrible cruelty to which the will of the tyrant King of Dahomey
might compel some of them to submit. Bitter, too, was the anguish which
poor Orlo suffered when he felt that he should for ever be separated
from his beloved Era.
The journey was long and tedious, and the captives' feet were torn by
the thorns and cut by the hard rocks over which they had to pass; but
whenever they lagged behind they were urged on by the long spears of
their relentless captors. Arrived at the capital, they were astonished
at its extent and the number of its inhabitants, and, more than all, by
the vast array they saw drawn up for the inspection of the king. They
had little opportunity of seeing much, for they were soon conducted into
a large low building, where they were secured by iron shackles, back to
back, to a long beam, scarcely able to move.
After remaining here for several days Orlo and others were separated
from their companions and carried to a building on one side of the great
square of the city, where all public ceremonies were performed.
Dreadful shrieks assailed their ears both by day and night. They heard
they were uttered by the human victims offered up by the savage king to
the spirits of his departed ancestors.
They were not long left in doubt as to what was to be their fate. They
also were to be destroyed in the same manner. Some of their number on
hearing this sank into a state of apathy, others loudly bemoaned their
cruel lot, and others plotted how they might escape, but Orlo could
think only of his beloved Era, and the anxiety and anguish his absence
would have caused her.
At length Orlo and nine others were taken out and told they were to
enjoy the high privilege of being sacrificed in presence of their king.
They were now dressed in white garments, and tall red caps were put on
their heads. Their arms and legs were then bound securely, and they
were placed in a sitting posture in small canoe-shaped troughs, and thus
in a long procession were carried around the square amid the cruel
shouts of the savage populace. At length they reached a high platform
or slope in the centre of the square, on which sat the king, under the
shade of a vast umbrella, surrounded by his courtiers and chiefs. Below
the platform were collected a vast mob of savages, their hideous
countenances looking up with fierce delight at the terrible drama which
was to be enacted. Among the crowd stood several men of gigantic
stature, even more savage-looking than the rest, armed with huge knotted
clubs. These they knew instinctively were their intended executioners.
Not one of them attempted to plead for mercy; that they knew were vain.
Their eyes glanced hopelessly round, now on the assembled throng below,
now on the groups collected on the platform, not expecting to meet a
look of compassion turned towards them. But yes, among one group they
see a man of strange appearance. His skin is white, and by his fine
dress, glittering with gold, they believe him to be a great chief. He
advances towards the king, whom, with eager look, he addresses in a
strange language. What he says they cannot tell, till another man of
their own colour speaks, and then they know that he is pleading for
their lives; not only pleading, but offering a large ransom if they be
given up to him. How anxiously they listen for the reply! The king
will not hear of it. The spirit of his father complains that he has
been neglected; that his nation must have become degenerate; that they
have ceased to conquer, since so few captives have been sent to bear him
company in the world of shades. Again the strange white chief speaks,
and offers higher bribes. Curious that he should take so much trouble
about some poor black captives they think. What can be his object?
What can influence him?
He does not plead altogether in vain. The king will give him four for
the sum he offers, but no more. He would not dare thus to displease the
shade of his father, and the white chief may choose whom he will. The
victims gaze anxiously at his countenance. It is merciful and benign
they think--unlike any they have before seen. Which of them will he
select?
He does not hesitate; he knows what must be passing in the hearts of
those poor wretches. He quickly lays his hand on four of them, and
turns away his head with sorrow from the rest. Orlo is among those he
has claimed. They show but little pleasure or gratitude as they are
released, and, being stripped of their sacrificial garments, are placed
under charge of his attendants. The rest of the miserable captives are
held up, some by men, others by the Amazonian warriors, to the gaze of
the expectant multitude, who shriek and shout horribly, and then they
are cast forward into the midst of the crowd, when the executioners set
on them with their clubs and speedily terminate their sufferings. For
several successive days is the same horrible scene enacted, the Fetish
men declaring that the spirit of the late king is not yet satisfied.
Orlo by degrees recovered from the stupor into which his sufferings,
mental and bodily, and the anticipation of a cruel death had thrown him.
He then found that the white chief, whose slave he considered himself,
was no other than the captain of a British man-of-war, cruising off the
coast for the suppression of the slave-trade--not that he understood
very clearly much about the matter, but he had heard of the sea, and
that big canoes floated on it which carried his countrymen across it to
a land from which none ever came back. Still, as this captain had
certainly saved his life, he felt an affection for him, and hoped that
he should be allowed to remain his slave, and not be sold to a stranger.
As to asking to be liberated to be sent back to Era, he did not for a
moment suppose that such a request would be granted, and he therefore
did not make it. At last the coast was reached, and a ship appeared,
and a boat came and took them on board. The captain had seen something
in Orlo's countenance which especially pleased him, so he asked whether
he would like to remain with him; and Orlo, very much surprised that the
option should be given him, said, "Yes, certainly."
So Orlo was entered on the ship's books, and soon learned not only to
attend on the captain, but to be a sailor. His affection for his patron
and preserver was remarkable. Whatever Captain Fisher wished he
attempted to perform to the best of his ability, while he was attentive
and faithful in the extreme. He soon acquired enough English to make
himself understood, while he could comprehend everything that was said
to him.
The _Sea Sprite_ was a very fast sailing corvette, and had already, by
her speed and the sagacity with which her cruising-ground was selected,
made more captures than any other craft of the squadron. Her success
continued after Orlo had become one of her crew. He always got leave to
go on board the prizes when they were taken possession of, and his
services were soon found of value as interpreter. His object was
naturally to inquire about news from his own part of the country. He
was not likely to obtain any satisfactory information. Some time
passed--another capture was made. He returned on board the corvette
very depressed in spirits, and was often seen in tears. Captain Fisher
asked him the cause of his sorrows. He had learned that at length his
own village had been surprised during the night by the slave-hunters of
the King of Dahomey, that not one of the inhabitants had escaped, and
that all had been carried off into captivity. They had been sold to
different dealers, and had been transported to the baracoons on
different parts of the coast, ready for embarkation. Where Era had been
carried he could not ascertain; only one thing was certain--she and her
child had been seen in the hands of the Dahomian soldiers, on their way
to the capital. His beloved Era was then a slave; and he by this time
full well knew what slavery meant. He had seen several slave ships
captured, and the horrors, the barbarities, and indignities to which the
captives on board were exposed. He pictured to himself the terrible
journey from the interior, the lash of the brutal driver descending on
her shoulders as she tottered on with her infant in her arms, her knees
bending from weakness, her feet torn with thorns and hard rocks--she who
had been so tenderly cared for--whom he loved so dearly;--the thought
was more than he could bear. He looked over the side of the ship, and
gazed at the blue waters, and said to himself, "I shall find rest
beneath them; in the world of spirits I shall meet my own Era, and be
happy."
One of the officers of the ship, a Christian man, had watched him. He
had before observed his melancholy manner, so different to what he had
at first exhibited. Lieutenant L-- called him, and asked him the cause
of his sorrow.
Orlo narrated his simple history.
"And no one has thought all this time of imparting any knowledge of
Gospel truth to this poor African," said the lieutenant to himself; and
a blush rose on his own cheeks. "No time shall be lost, though," he
added; and he unfolded in language suited to his comprehension, and in
all its simplicity, the grand scheme of redemption whereby sinning man
can be accepted by a holy and just God as freed from sin, through the
great sacrifice offered once on the Cross.
Orlo listened eagerly and attentively. All ideas of suicide had left
his mind. He longed to know more of this wonderful, this glorious news.
"Then, Orlo, would you not wish to please so merciful and kind a Master,
who has done so much for you?" asked the lieutenant.
"Yes, massa, dat I would," answered the African.
"One way in which you can do so, is to bear patiently and humbly, as He
did, the afflictions the loving God thinks fit to send. He does it in
mercy, depend on that. God's ways are not our ways; but the
all-powerful God who made the world must of necessity know better what
is right and good than we poor frail dying creatures, whom He formed
from the dust of the earth, and who, but for His will, would instantly
return to dust again."
"Me see, me see," answered the negro, in a tone as joyful as if he had
found a pearl of great price; and so he had, for he had found Gospel
truth.
"God knows better than we," was his constant remark after this when he
heard others complaining of the misfortunes and ills of life.
The ship had now been nearly her full time in commission, and her
captain was in daily expectation of receiving orders to return home.
Poor Orlo's heart sank within him. He must either quit his kind master
and his still kinder lieutenant, or, by leaving the coast, abandon all
hopes of ever again seeing his beloved Era. To be sure, he knew that
she might long ere this have been carried off to the Brazils or Cuba;
and faint indeed was the expectation that they ever should meet in this
world. Then, again, another feeling arose: "I am now a Christian and
she is still a heathen. How can God receive her in heaven?" But after
a time he thought--"Ah, but I can pray that she may become a Christian.
God's ways are not our ways. He will hear my prayers--that I know. He
can bring about by some of His ways what I cannot accomplish." And Orlo
prayed as he had never prayed before. Captain Fisher treated Orlo with
unusual kindness, and, under the circumstances, he could not have been
happier on board any ship in the navy.
Captain Fisher was not a man to relax in his efforts, as long as he
remained on the station, to suppress the abominable traffic in human
beings by all the means in his power. The _Sea Sprite_ continued
cruising, accordingly, along the coast, looking in at the different
stations, till one morning, at daybreak, a suspicious schooner was seen
at anchor, close in with the shore. The increasing light revealed the
corvette to those on board. The schooner instantly slipped her cable
and stood along the coast, while the _Sea Sprite_ made all sail in
chase. Of the character of the vessel there could be no doubt, or she
would not have attempted to run from the man-of-war. The _Sea Sprite_
stood as close in as the depth of water would allow; farther in she dare
not go. There was still a possibility of the chase escaping. Orlo, as
usual, was the most eager on board. He delighted in seeing his
countrymen freed from slavery, and he never abandoned the hope of
meeting with Era. "I pray I meet her. I know God hear prayer," said
Orlo.
The wind fell. "Out boats," was the order. Captain Fisher went
himself. The chase was a large schooner. A boat was seen to put off
from her and pull towards the surf: whether or not she could get through
it seemed a question. The English seamen bent to their oars; they were
resolved to reach the chase before she could again get the breeze. They
dashed alongside, and soon sprang over her bulwarks. No resistance was
made. Poor Orlo, glancing round, discovered, to his disappointment,
that she had no slaves on board. The master, it was found, had landed
with the specie for the purchase of slaves. One of the slave crew--a
mate, he looked like--appeared to have a peculiar thickness under his
knees; Orlo detected it, and pointed it out to the captain. The
master-at-arms was ordered to examine him. Most unwillingly the fellow
tucked up his trousers--grinning horribly at Orlo all the time--when he
was found to have on a pair of garters, out of each of which rolled
thirty doubloons.
The schooner's head being put off-shore, the boats took her in tow,
till, a breeze springing up, sail was made on her for Sierra Leone. The
next morning commenced with a thick mist and rain. Orlo, from his
quickness of vision, was now constantly employed as one of the
look-outs. He was on the watch to go aloft directly it gave signs of
clearing. His impatience, however, did not allow him to remain till the
mist dispersed. Away aloft he went, observing, "It must fine soon; den
I see sip." He had not been many minutes at the mast-head when he
shouted, "Sip in-shore!" He had discovered her royals above the mist.
Sail was instantly made in chase. Some time elapsed before the _Sea
Sprite_ was discovered. Suddenly the mist cleared, and there appeared
close in-shore a large American slave ship. There was no doubt about
her, with her great beam and wide spread of canvas.
Hoisting American colours, the stranger made all sail to escape. He was
standing off the land; but as on that course he would have had to pass
unpleasantly near the corvette, he tacked in-shore, and then bore away
along the surf, hoping thus, with his large sails, to draw ahead and
escape. The light wind appeared to favour him, but Captain Fisher
determined that it should not. Ordering the boats away, he took one
with a strongly-armed crew, and pulled to windward to cut off the chase,
while two others went to leeward, so that his chance of escaping was
small indeed. The slave captain seemed to think so likewise. He dared
not meet in fight the true-hearted British seaman. Regardless of the
risk he and his own crew would run, of the destruction he was about to
bring on hundreds of his fellow-creatures, the savage slave captain put
up his helm, and ran the ship under all sail towards the shore.
"What is the fellow about?" exclaimed Captain Fisher. "If that ship is
full, as she seems to be, she has not less than four or five hundred
human beings on board, and he'll run the risk of drowning every one of
them."
It was too evident, however, that this was the design of the slaver's
captain. His heart was seared. Long accustomed to human suffering in
every possible form, he set no more value on the lives of his cargo than
if they had been so many sheep, except so far as they could be exchanged
for all-potent dollars. On flew the beautiful fabric--for beautiful she
was, in spite of her nefarious employment--to destruction. With all her
sails set, through the roaring surf she dashed, then rose on the summit
of a sea, and down she came, striking heavily, her ropes flying wildly
and her sails flapping furiously in the breeze. What mattered it to the
slaver's crew that they left their hapless passengers to perish! Their
boats were lowered, and, with such valuables as they could secure, and
some of the slaves which, for their greater value, they wished to save,
they made their escape to shore, leaving the ship, with the American
colours flying, to her fate.
Captain Fisher and the other boats now closed with the wreck, while the
corvette also was standing in. When close as she could venture to come,
she anchored, and the master came off from her in a whale-boat and
joined the other boats. Terrible was the sight which now met the eyes
of the English seamen. Orlo beheld it, too, with horror and anguish.
As the ship rolled fearfully from side to side, the terrified negroes
forced their way up on deck, and in their wild despair, not knowing what
to do, many leaped into the raging breakers which swept by alongside,
and, helplessly whirling round and round, were soon hidden beneath the
waves. One after the other the poor wretches rushed up on deck; many,
following the impulse of the first, leaped overboard to meet a like
speedy death; others, clinging to the wreck, were washed overboard; some
of the stronger still clung on; but many yet remained below.
"This is sad work," exclaimed Captain Fisher. "We must save these poor
people at all hazards."
A cheer was the reply, and, the men giving way, the boats dashed at
great hazard through the surf to leeward of the wreck; but here it
seemed almost impossible to board her from the heavy lurches she was
making, sending the blocks and spars and rigging flying over their
heads, and threatening to swamp the boats should they get alongside.
Still Captain Fisher and his gallant followers persevered. He was the
first on board, and Orlo leaped on the deck after him. The scene
appeared even more horrible than at a distance. The negroes, as they
could get clear of their manacles, climbed up from the slave deck, and
ran to and fro, shrieking and crying out like people deprived of reason.
Some ran on till they sprang overboard; others turned again, and
continued running backwards and forwards, till the seamen were compelled
to catch them and throw them below till the boats could be got ready for
their rescue. The captain ordered Orlo to try and pacify them. He
answered, that their extreme terror arose from the idea which the
slaver's crew had given them, that the object of the English in taking
possession of the vessel was to cut all their throats. Orlo did his
best to quiet their fears when he learned the cause, assuring them the
reason the British seaman had come on board was to do them good, and to
try and save their lives. It was some time, however, before they would
credit his assertions. The ship's barge had now been brought in and
anchored just outside the rollers, while the cutter was backed in under
the slaver's counter. Three of the slaves at a time were then allowed
to come up, and were lowered into the boat, from which the whale-boat
took them through the surf to the barge, and that when full ultimately
carried them to the corvette. The process was of necessity slow, the
toil was excessive, and the danger very great; but the British seamen
did not shrink from it. Orlo had from the first, while acting as
interpreter, been scanning the countenances of all he met, making
inquiries of those who could understand his language (for all could not
do so) if they could give him any information about his beloved Era.
Again and again he went below, but the darkness prevented him from
distinguishing any one, and the shrieks, groans, and cries from making
his voice heard, or from hearing what any one might have said.
Night closed on the hitherto unremitting labours of the gallant crew.
They had thus saved two hundred poor wretches, but upwards of two
hundred remained on board when darkness made it impossible to remove
them. Still, could they be left to perish, which they probably would if
left alone? The slaver's crew might return, and either attempt to land
them, to keep them in captivity, or burn the ship, to prevent them from
falling into the hands of the British. The risk of remaining was very
great, but several officers volunteered. Orlo's friend, Lieutenant --,
claimed the privilege, and Orlo begged that he might remain with him.
The last performance of the boats was to bring off some rice which had
been found in the captured schooner, and cooked, thoughtfully, by the
captain's orders, in his coppers, in readiness for the liberated
negroes. Plenty of men were ready to remain with Lieutenant --.
Without this supply of food, few, probably, of the slaves on board would
have survived the night; even as it was, many of those who were rescued
died on their passage to the corvette, or on her decks. Lieutenant
-- and his brave companions had truly a night of trial. The wind
increased, the surf roared louder and louder as it broke around them,
the ship rolled and struck more and more violently, till it seemed
impossible that she could hold together, while all this time the unhappy
captives below were shrieking and crying out most piteously for help.
Poor creatures! they knew not how to pray, or to whom to pray. They
thought and believed, and not without reason, that a Fetish, or spirit
of evil, had got possession of them, and was wreaking his malice on
their heads. Orlo gladly, by the lieutenant's orders, went frequently
below to try and comfort them, and to assure them that by the return of
daylight fresh efforts would be made for their rescue. Still great
indeed were their sufferings. Many, both men, women, and children, died
during that fearful night, from wet, cold, fear, and hunger, as they
sat, still closely packed on the slave deck. Orlo's kind heart made him
suffer almost as much as they were doing--the more so that he felt how
little could be done to relieve them.
At length the morning dawned, when it was found that the ship had driven
considerably farther in towards the beach. As daylight broke, people
were seen collecting on the shore; their numbers increased; they were
gesticulating violently. Did they come to render assistance to their
perishing fellow-countrymen? No; led on by the miscreant whites who had
formed the crew of the slave ship, and deceived by their falsehoods,
they had come to attempt the recapture of the ship. The corvette had,
of necessity, stood off-shore for the night. Lieutenant --, hoisting a
signal of distress, prepared to defend the prize to the last. He
examined the shore anxiously. The slaver's crew and their black allies
were bringing boats or canoes to launch, for the purpose of attacking
the ship. Should the wretches succeed, he knew that his life and that
of all his companions would be sacrificed.
At length the corvette was seen working up under all sail. She
approached; her anchor was dropped, and her boats, being lowered, pulled
in towards the wreck. As they got near, the people on shore, balked in
their first project, opened a hot fire of musketry on them. The boats
had not come unarmed. The larger ones were immediately anchored, and,
each having a gun of some weight, opened a hot fire on the beach. This
was more than the slave-dealers had bargained for. They were ready
enough to kill others, but had no fancy to be killed themselves.
Several times the blacks took to flight, but were urged back again by
the white men, till, some of the shot taking effect on them, the beach
was at last cleared.
The wreck was now again boarded. Lieutenant -- and his men were found
almost worn out; the hold was full of water, and the ship was giving
signs of breaking up. No time was to be lost. The larger boats
anchored, as before, outside the rollers, and, by means of the smaller
ones, communication by ropes being established, the negroes were, a few
at a time, hauled through the surf. Many were more dead than alive, and
several died before they reached the corvette. Some were brought up by
their companions dead, and many were the heartrending scenes where
fathers and mothers found that they had lost their children, husbands
their wives, or children their parents. Orlo had held out bravely all
the night, but his strength, towards the morning, gave way, and
Lieutenant --, seeing his condition, directed that he should be carried
back to the corvette, which he reached in an almost unconscious state.
This living cargo was composed of all ages. There were strong men and
youths, little boys, women, young girls, and children, and several
mothers with infants at their breasts. How fondly and tenderly the poor
creatures pressed them there, and endeavoured to shelter them from the
salt spray and cold! Fully two hundred were carried on board the
corvette during the morning, and it was found that the immortal spirits
of nearly fifty of those who had been left on board during the night had
passed away. The last poor wretch being rescued, the wreck was set on
fire, both fore and aft; the flames burst quickly forth, surrounding the
masts, from which still floated that flag which, professing to be the
flag of freedom, has so often protected that traffic which has carried
thousands upon thousands of the human race into hopeless and abject
slavery. The seamen instinctively gave a cheer as they saw it disappear
among the devouring flames.
The labours of Captain Fisher and his brave crew were not over. They
had to provide food and shelter for fully four hundred of the rescued
negroes. Rice, as before, was boiled, and cocoa was given them, and
those who most required care were clothed and carried to the galley fire
to warm. Among the last rescued was a young woman with a little boy, on
whom all her care was lavished. Though herself almost perished, before
she would touch food she fed him, and when some clothing was given her
she wrapped it round him. She had been found in the fore part of the
ship in an almost fainting condition, where she had remained unnoticed,
apparently in a state of stupor, with her little boy pressed to her
heart. Orlo had been placed under the doctor's care. It was not till
the next morning that he was allowed to come on deck, where his services
were at once called into requisition as interpreter. Though
unacquainted with the language of many of the tribes to which the
captives belonged, he was generally able to make himself understood. A
sail had been spread over part of the deck, beneath which the women and
young children were collected. The doctor, when about to visit it,
called Orlo to accompany him, as interpreter. Among them, sitting on
the deck, and leaning against a gun carriage, with her arm thrown round
the neck of a little boy, was a young woman, though wan and ill, still
possessing that peculiar beauty occasionally seen among several of the
tribes of Africa. Orlo fixed his eyes on her; his knees trembled; he
rushed forward; she sprang up, uttering a wild shriek of joy, and his
arms were thrown around her. He had found his long lost Era and their
child. "Ah! God hear prayer; I know now!" he exclaimed joyfully.
"Wife soon be Christian, and child. God berry, berry good!"
Happily, the next morning the corvette fell in with another man-of-war,
between which and the schooner the rescued slaves being distributed, all
three made sail for Sierra Leone. The blacks were there landed, and
ground given them on which to settle. Orlo begged that he and Era and
their child might also be there set on shore. He did not go
empty-handed, for, besides pay and prize-money, generously advanced him
by his captain, gifts were showered on him both by his officers and
messmates, and he became one of the most flourishing settlers in that
happy colony. At length, however, wishing once more to see his own
people, and to assist in spreading the truth of the Gospel, which he had
so sincerely embraced, among them, he removed to Abbeokuta, where, with
his wife now a Christian woman, and surrounded by a young Christian
family, he is now settled, daily setting forth, by his consistent walk,
the beauties and graces of the Christian faith.
Whenever any of his friends are in difficulties, he always says, "Ah!
God hear prayer! You pray; never fear!"