Such of the agents as are Portuguese are (as it may well be imagined) of the very lowest dregs of society, outlaws, escaped criminals, and men of the most desperate character; of this stamp were the associates of Negoro and Harris, now in the employ of José Antonio Alvez, one of the most notorious of all the slave-dealers of Central Africa, and of whom Commander Cameron has given some curious information.
Most frequently the soldiers who escort the captives are natives hired by the dealers, but they do not possess the entire monopoly of the forays made for the purpose of securing slaves; the native negro kings make war upon each other with this express design, and sell their vanquished antagonists, men, women, and children, to the traders for calico, guns, gunpowder and red beads; or in times of famine, according to Livingstone, even for a few grains of maize.
The escort of old Alvez’ caravan was an average specimen of these African soldiers. It was simply a horde of half-naked banditti, carrying old flint-locked muskets, the barrels of which were decorated with copper rings. The agents are very often put to their wits’ end to know how to manage them; their orders are called in question, halts are continually demanded, and in order to avert desertion they are frequently obliged to yield to the obstreperous will of their undisciplined force.
Although the slaves, both male and female, are compelled to carry burdens whilst on their march, a certain number of porters, called pagazis, is specially engaged to carry the more valuable merchandise, and principally the ivory. Tusks occasionally weigh as much as 160 lbs., and require two men to carry them to the depots, whence they are sent to the markets of Khartoum, Natal, and Zanzibar. On their arrival the pagazis are paid by the dealers according to contract, which is generally either by about twenty yards of the cotton stuff known as merikani, or by a little powder, by a handful or two of cowries, by some beads, or if all these be scarce, they are paid by being allotted some of the slaves who are otherwise unsalable.
Among the five hundred slaves in the caravan, very few were at all advanced in years. The explanation of this circumstance was that whenever a raid is made, and a village is set on fire, every inhabitant above the age of forty is mercilessly massacred or hung upon the neighbouring trees; only the children and young adults of both sexes are reserved for the market, and as these constitute only a small proportion of the vanquished, some idea may be formed of the frightful depopulation which these vast districts of Equinoctial Africa are undergoing.
Nothing could be more pitiable than the condition of this miserable herd. All alike were destitute of clothing, having nothing on them but a few strips of the stuff known as mbuza, made from the bark of trees; many of the women were covered with bleeding wounds from the drivers’ lashes, and had their feet lacerated by the constant friction of the road, but in addition to other burdens were compelled to carry their own emaciated children; young men, too, there were who had lost their voices from exhaustion, and who, to use Livingstone’s expression, had been reduced to “ebony skeletons” by toiling under the yoke of the fork, which is far more galling than the galley-chain. It was a sight that might have moved the most stony-hearted, but yet there was no symptom of compassion on the part of those Arab and Portuguese drivers whom Cameron pronounces “worse than brutes.”5
The guard over the prisoners was so strict that Dick Sands felt it would be utterly useless for him to make any attempt to seek for Mrs. Weldon. She and her son had doubtless been carried off by Negoro, and his heart sank when he thought of the dangers to which too probably she would be exposed. Again and again he repeated his reproaches on himself that he had ever allowed either Negoro or Harris to escape his hands. Neither Mrs. Weldon nor Jack could expect the least assistance from Cousin Benedict; the good man was barely able to consult for himself. All three of them would, he conjectured, be conveyed to some remote district of Angola; the poor mother, like some miserable slave, would insist upon carrying her own sick son until her strength failed her, and, exhausted by her endurances, she sank down helpless on the way.
A prisoner, and powerless to help! the very thought was itself a torture to poor Dick. Even Dingo was gone! It would have been a satisfaction to have had the dog to send off upon the track of the lost ones. One only hope remained. Hercules still was free. All that human strength could attempt in Mrs. Weldon’s behalf, Hercules would not fail to try. Perhaps, too, under cover of the night, it was not altogether improbable that the stalwart negro would mingle with the crowd of negroes (amongst whom his dark skin would enable him to pass unnoticed), and make his way to Dick himself; then might not the two together elude the vigilance of the watch? might they not follow after and overtake Mrs. Weldon in the forest? would they not perchance be able either by stealth or by force to liberate her, and once free they would effect an escape to the river, and finally accomplish the undertaking in which they had been so lamentably frustrated. Such were the sanguine visions in which Dick permitted himself to indulge; his temperament overcame all tendency to despair, and
