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  CHAPTER FOUR.

  IN WHICH OUR HEROES SEE STRANGE SIGHTS AT ZANZIBAR, AND RESOLVE UPONTAKING A BOLD STEP.

  Before proceeding to the Seychelles, the `Firefly' touched at the islandof Zanzibar, and there landed our hero Harold Seadrift and his comradein misfortune, Disco Lillihammer.

  Here, one brilliant afternoon, the two friends sat down under apalm-tree to hold what Disco called a palaver. The spot commanded afine view of the town and harbour of Zanzibar.

  We repeat that the afternoon was brilliant, but it is right to add thatit required an African body and mind fully to appreciate the pleasuresof it. The sun's rays were blistering, the heat was intense, and theair was stifling. Harold lay down and gasped, Disco followed hisexample, and sighed. After a few minutes spent in a species of imbecilecontemplation of things in general, the latter raised himself to asitting posture, and proceeded slowly to fill and light his pipe.Harold was no smoker, but he derived a certain dreamy enjoyment fromgazing at Disco, and wondering how he could smoke in such hot weather.

  "We'll get used to it I s'pose, like the eels," observed Disco, when thepipe was in full blast.

  "Of course we shall," replied Harold; "and now that we have come to ananchor, let me explain the project which has been for some days maturingin my mind."

  "All right; fire away, sir," said the sailor, blowing a long thin cloudfrom his lips.

  "You are aware," said Harold, "that I came out here as supercargo of myfather's vessel," (Disco nodded), "but you are not aware that my chiefobject in coming was to see a little of the world in general, and of theAfrican part of it in particular. Since my arrival you and I have seena few things, which have opened up my mind in regard to slavery; we havenow been a fortnight in this town, and my father's agent has enlightenedme still further on the subject, insomuch that I now feel within me anintense desire to make an excursion into the interior of Africa; indeed,I have resolved to do so, for the purpose of seeing its capabilities ina commercial point of view, of observing how the slave-trade isconducted at its fountain-head, and of enjoying a little of the sceneryand the sport peculiar to this land of Ham."

  "W'y, you speaks like a book, sir," said Disco, emitting a prolongedpuff, "an' it ain't for the likes me to give an opinion on that there;but if I may make bold to ax, sir, how do you mean to travel--on theback of a elephant or a ry-noceris?--for it seems to me that there ain'tmuch in the shape o' locomotives or 'busses hereabouts--not even cabs."

  "I shall go in a canoe," replied Harold; "but my reason for broachingthe subject just now is, that I may ask if you are willing to go withme."

  "There's no occasion to ax that sir; I'm your man--north or south, eastor west, it's all the same to me. I've bin born to roll about theworld, and it matters little whether I rolls ashore or afloat--though Iprefers the latter."

  "Well, then, that's settled," said Harold, with a look of satisfaction;"I have already arranged with our agent here to advance me what Irequire in the way of funds, and shall hire men and canoes when we getdown to the Zambesi--"

  "The Zam-wot, sir?"

  "The Zambesi; did you never hear of it before?"

  "Never, nor don't know wot it is, sir."

  "It is a river; one of the largest on the east coast, which has beenwell described by Dr Livingstone, that greatest of travellers, whosechief object in travelling is, as he himself says, to raise the negroesout of their present degraded condition, and free them from the curse ofslavery."

  "That's the man to _my_ mind," said Disco emphatically; "good luck tohim.--But w'en d'you mean to start for the Zambizzy, sir?"

  "In a few days. It will take that time to get everything ready, and ourmoney packed."

  "Our money packed!" echoed the sailor, with a look of surprise, "w'y,wot d'ye mean!"

  "Just what I say. The money current in the interior of Africa is rathercumbrous, being neither more nor less than goods. You'll never guesswhat sort--try."

  "Rum," said Disco.

  "No."

  "Pipes and 'baccy."

  Harold shook his head.

  "Never could guess nothin'," said Disco, replacing the pipe, which hehad removed for a few moments from his lips; "I gives it up."

  "What would you say to cotton cloth, and thick brass wire, and glassbeads, being the chief currency in Central Africa?" said Harold.

  "You don't mean it, sir?"

  "Indeed I do, and as these articles must be carried in large quantities,if we mean to travel far into the land, there will be more bales andcoils than you and I could well carry in our waistcoat pockets."

  "That's true, sir," replied Disco, looking earnestly at a couple ofnegro slaves who chanced to pass along the neighbouring footpath at thatmoment, singing carelessly. "Them poor critters don't seem to be somiserable after all."

  "That is because the nigger is naturally a jolly, light-hearted fellow,"said Harold, "and when his immediate and more pressing troubles areremoved he accommodates himself to circumstances, and sings, as youhear. If these fellows were to annoy their masters and get a thrashing,you'd hear them sing in another key. The evils of most things don'tshow on the surface. You must get behind the scenes to understand them.You and I have already had one or two peeps behind the scenes."

  "We have indeed, sir," replied Disco, frowning, and closing his fistsinvoluntarily, as he thought of Yoosoof and the dhow.

  "Now, then," said Harold, rising, as Disco shook the ashes out of hislittle black pipe, and placed that beloved implement in the pocket ofhis coat, "let us return to the harbour, and see what chance there is ofgetting a passage to the Zambesi, in an honest trading dhow--if there issuch a thing in Zanzibar."

  On their way to the harbour they had to pass through the slave-market.This was not the first time they had visited the scene of thisiniquitous traffic, but neither Harold nor Disco could accustomthemselves to it. Every time they entered the market their feelings ofindignation became so intense that it was with the utmost difficultythey could control them. When Disco saw handsome negro men andgood-looking girls put up for public sale,--their mouths rudely opened,and their teeth examined by cool, calculating Arabs, just as if they hadbeen domestic cattle--his spirit boiled within him, his fingers tingled,and he felt a terrible inclination to make a wild attack, single-handed,on the entire population of Zanzibar, though he might perish in theexecution of vengeance and the relief of his feelings! We need scarcelyadd that his discretion saved him. They soon reached the small squarein which the market was held. Here they saw a fine-looking young womansold to a grave elderly Arab for a sum equal to about eight poundssterling. Passing hastily on, they observed another "lot," a tallstalwart man, having his various "points" examined, and stopped to seethe result. His owner, thinking, perhaps, that he seemed a littlesluggish in his movements, raised his whip and caused it to fall uponhis flank with such vigour that the poor fellow, taken by surprise,leaped high into the air, and uttered a yell of pain. The strength andactivity of the man were unquestionable, and he soon found a purchaser.

  But all the slaves were not fine-looking or stalwart like the two justreferred to. Many of them were most miserable objects. Some stood,others were seated as if incapable of standing, so emaciated were they.Not a few were mere skeletons, with life and skin. Near the middle ofthe square, groups of children were arranged--some standing up to beinspected, others sitting down. These ranged from five years andupwards, but there was not one that betrayed the slightest tendency tomirth, and Disco came to the conclusion that negro children do not play,but afterwards discovered his mistake, finding that their exuberantjollity "at home" was not less than that of the children of other lands.These little slaves had long ago been terrified, and beaten, andstarved into listless, apathetic and silent creatures.

  Further on, a row of young women attracted their attention. They wereranged in a semicircle, all nearly in a state of nudity, waiting to besold. A group of Arabs stood in front of them, conversing. One ofthese women looked such a picture of woe th
at Disco felt irresistiblyimpelled to stop. There were no tears in her eyes; the fountainappeared to have been dried up, but, apparently, without abating thegrief which was stamped in deep lines on her young countenance, andwhich burst frequently from her breast in convulsive sobs. OurEnglishmen were not only shocked but surprised at this woman's aspect,for their experience had hitherto gone to show that the slaves usuallybecame callous under their sufferings. Whatever of humanity might haveoriginally belonged to them seemed to have been entirely driven out ofthem by the cruelties and indignities they had so long suffered at thehands of their captors. [See Captain Sulivan's _Dhow-chasing inZanzibar Waters_, page 252.]

  "Wot's the matter with her, poor thing?" asked Disco of a half-castePortuguese, dressed in something like the garb of a sailor.

  "Oh, notting," answered the man in broken English, with a look ofindifference, "she have lose her chile, dat all."

  "Lost her child? how--wot d'ee mean?"

  "Dey hab sole de chile," replied the man; "was good fat boy, 'bouttwo-yer ole. S'pose she hab carry him for months troo de woods, an'over de hills down to coast, an' tink she keep him altogether. But shemistake. One trader come here 'bout one hour past. He want boy--notwant modder; so he buy de chile. Modder fight a littil at first, but deowner soon make her quiet. Oh, it notting at all. She cry a littil--soon forget her chile, an' get all right."

  "Come, I can't stand this," exclaimed Harold, hastening away.

  Disco said nothing, but to the amazement of the half-caste, he graspedhim by the collar, and hurled him aside with a degree of force thatcaused him to stagger and fall with stunning violence to the ground.Disco then strode away after his friend, his face and eyes blazing withvarious emotions, among which towering indignation predominated.

  In a few minutes they reached the harbour, and, while making inquiriesas to the starting of trading dhows for the south, they succeeded incalming their feelings down to something like their ordinary condition.

  The harbour was crowded with dhows of all shapes and sizes, most of themladen with slaves, some discharging cargoes for the Zanzibar market,others preparing to sail, under protection of a pass from the Sultan,for Lamoo, which is the northern limit of the Zanzibar dominions, and,therefore, of the so-called "domestic" slave-trade.

  There would be something particularly humorous in the barefacedness ofthis august Sultan of Zanzibar, if it were connected with anything lesshorrible than slavery. For instance, there is something almost amusingin the fact that dhows were sailing every day for Lamoo with hundreds ofslaves, although that small town was known to be very much overstockedat the time. It was also quite entertaining to know that the commandersof the French and English war-vessels lying in the harbour at the timewere aware of this, and that the Sultan knew it, and that, in short,everybody knew it, but that nobody appeared to have the power to preventit! Even the Sultan who granted the permits or passes to the owners ofthe dhows, although he _professed_ to wish to check the slave-trade,could not prevent it. Wasn't that strange--wasn't it curious? TheSultan derived by far the largest portion of his revenue from the taxlevied on the export of slaves--amounting to somewhere about 10,000pounds a year--but _that_ had nothing to do with it of course not, ohdear no! Then there was another very ludicrous phase of this oriental,not to say transcendental, potentate's barefacedness. He knew, andprobably admitted, that about 2000, some say 4000, slaves a year weresufficient to meet the home-consumption of that commodity, and he alsoknew, but probably did not admit, that not fewer than 30,000 slaves wereannually exported from Zanzibar to meet this requirement of 4000! Theseare very curious specimens of miscalculation which this barefaced Sultanseems to have fallen into. Perhaps he was a bad arithmetician. [SeeCaptain Sulivan's _Dhow-chasing in Zanzibar Water_; page 111.] We havesaid that this state of things _was_ so at the time of our story, but wemay now add that it still _is_ so in this year of grace 1873. Whetherit shall continue to be so remains to be seen!

  Having spent some time in fruitless inquiry, Harold and Disco at last totheir satisfaction, discovered an Arab dhow of known good character,which was on the point of starting for the Zambesi in the course of afew days, for the purpose of legitimate traffic. It therefore becamenecessary that our hero should make his purchases and preparations withall possible speed. In this he was entirely guided by his father'sagent, a merchant of the town, who understood thoroughly what wasnecessary for the intended journey.

  It is not needful here to enter into full details, suffice it to saythat among the things purchased by Harold, and packed up in portableform, were a number of bales of common unbleached cotton, which isesteemed above everything by the natives of Africa as an article ofdress--if we may dignify by the name of dress the little piece, aboutthe size of a moderate petticoat, which is the only clothing of some, orthe small scrap round the loins which is the sole covering of other,natives of the interior! There were also several coils of thick brasswire, which is much esteemed by them for making bracelets and anklets;and a large quantity of beads of various colours, shapes, and sizes. Ofbeads, we are told, between five and six hundred tons are annuallymanufactured in Great Britain for export to Africa.

  Thus supplied, our two friends embarked in the dhow and set sail. Windand weather were propitious. In few days they reached the mouths of thegreat river Zambesi, and landed at the port of Quillimane.

  Only once on the voyage did they fall in with a British cruiser, whichordered them to lay-to and overhauled them, but on the papers andeverything being found correct, they were permitted to pursue theirvoyage.

  The mouths of the river Zambesi are numerous; extending over more thanninety miles of the coast. On the banks of the northern mouth stands--it would be more appropriate to say festers--the dirty little Portuguesetown of Quillimane. Its site is low, muddy, fever-haunted, and swarmingwith mosquitoes. No man in his senses would have built a villagethereon were it not for the facilities afforded for slaving. At springor flood tides the bar may be safely crossed by sailing vessels, but,being far from land, it is always dangerous for boats.

  Here, then, Harold and Disco landed, and remained for some time for thepurpose of engaging men. Appearing in the character of independenttravellers, they were received with some degree of hospitality by theprincipal inhabitants. Had they gone there as simple and legitimatetraders, every possible difficulty would have been thrown in their way,because the worthy people, from the Governor downwards, flourished,--orfestered,--by means of the slave-trade, and legitimate commerce iseverywhere found to be destructive to the slave-trade.

  Dr Livingstone and others tell us that thousands upon thousands ofnegroes have, of late years, gone out from Quillimane into slavery underthe convenient title of "free emigrants," their freedom being not quiteequal to that of a carter's horse, for while that animal, althoughenslaved, is usually well fed, the human animal is kept on rather lowdiet lest his spirit should rouse him to deeds of desperate violenceagainst his masters. All agricultural enterprise is also effectuallydiscouraged here. When a man wants to visit his country farm he has topurchase a permit from the Governor. If he wishes to go up the river tothe Portuguese towns of Senna or Tette, a pass must be purchased fromthe Governor. In fact it would weary the reader were we to enumeratethe various modes in which every effort of man to act naturally,legitimately, or progressively, is hampered, unless his business be thebuying and selling of human beings.

  At first Harold experienced great difficulty in procuring men. Themaster of the trading dhow in which he sailed from Zanzibar intended toremain as short a time as possible at Quillimane, purposing to visitports further south, and as Harold had made up his mind not to enter theZambesi by the Quillimane mouth, but to proceed in the dhow to one ofthe southern mouths, he felt tempted to give up the idea of procuringmen until he had gone further south.

  "You see, Disco," said he, in a somewhat disconsolate tone, "it won't doto let this dhow start without us, because I want to get down to theEast Luavo mouth of this riv
er, that being the mouth which was latelydiscovered and entered by Dr Livingstone; but I'm not sure that we canprocure men or canoes there, and our Arab skipper either can't or won'tenlighten me."

  "Ah!" observed Disco, with a knowing look, "he won't--that's where itis, sir. I've not a spark o' belief in that man, or in any Arab on thecoast. He's a slaver in disguise, he is, an' so's every mother's son of'em."

  "Well," continued Harold, "if we must start without them and take ourchance, we must; there is no escaping from the inevitable; neverthelesswe must exert ourselves _to-day_, because the dhow does not sail tillto-morrow evening, and there is no saying what luck may attend ourefforts before that time. Perseverance, you know, is the only suremethod of conquering difficulties."

  "That's so," said Disco; "them's my sentiments 'xactly. Never say die--Stick at nothing--Nail yer colours to the mast: them's the mottoes thatI goes in for--always s'posin' that you're in the right."

  "But what if you're in the wrong, and the colours are nailed?" askedHarold, with a smile.

  "W'y then, sir, of course I'd have to tear 'em down."

  "So that perhaps, it would be better not to nail them at all, unlessyou're very sure--eh?"

  "Oh, of _course_, sir," replied Disco, with solemn emphasis. "You don'tsuppose, sir, that I would nail 'em to the mast except I was sure, werysure, that I wos right? But, as you wos a sayin', sir, about thegittin' of them 'ere men."

  Disco had an easy way of changing a subject when he felt that he wasgetting out of his depth.

  "Well, to return to that. The fact is, I would not mind the men, forit's likely that men of some sort will turn up somewhere, but I am veryanxious about an interpreter. Without an interpreter we shall get onbadly, I fear, for I can only speak French, besides a very little Latinand Greek, none of which languages will avail much among niggers."

  Disco assumed a severely thoughtful expression of countenance.

  "That's true," he said, placing his right fist argumentatively in hisleft palm, "and I'm afeard I can't help you there, sir. If it wos tosteer a ship or pull a oar or man the fore-tops'l yard in a gale o'wind, or anything else in the seafarin' line, Disco Lillihammer's yourman, but I couldn't come a furrin' lingo at no price. I knows nothin'but my mother tongue,--nevertheless, though I says it that shouldn't, Idoes profess to be somewhat of a dab at that. Once upon a time I spentsix weeks in Dublin, an' havin' a quick ear for moosic, I soon managedto get up a strong dash o' the brogue; but p'raps that wouldn't go farwith the niggers."

  About two hours after the above conversation, while Harold Seadrift waswalking on the beach, he observed his faithful ally in the distancegrasping a short thickset man by the arm, and endeavouring to induce himto accompany him, with a degree of energy that fell little short of mainforce. The man was evidently unwilling.

  As the pair drew nearer, Harold overheard Disco's persuasivevoice:--"Come now, Antonio, don't be a fool; it's the best service youcould enter. Good pay and hard work, and all the grub that's goin'--what could a man want more? It's true there's no grog, but we don'tneed that in a climate where you've only got to go out in the sunwithout yer hat an' you'll be as good as drunk in ten minutes, any day."

  "No, no, not possibil," remonstrated the man, whose swarthy visagebetrayed a mixture of cunning, fun, and annoyance. He was obviously ahalf-caste of the lowest type, but with more pretensions to wealth thanmany of his fellows, inasmuch as he wore, besides his loin-cloth, awhite cotton shooting-coat, very much soiled, beneath the tails of whichhis thin black legs protruded ridiculously.

  "Here you are, sir," cried Disco, as he came up; "here's the man forlingo: knows the native talkee, as well as Portuguese, English, Arabic,and anything else you like, as far as I know. Antonio's his name.Come, sir, try him with Greek, or somethin' o' that sort!"

  Harold had much ado to restrain a smile, but, assuming a grave aspect,he addressed the man in French, while Disco listened with a look ofprofound respect and admiration.

  "W'y, wot's wrong with 'ee, man," exclaimed Disco, on observing theblank look of Antonio's countenance; "don't 'ee savay that?"

  "I thought you understood Portuguese?" said Harold in English.

  "So me do," replied Antonio quickly; "but dat no Portigeese--datSpanaish, me 'spose."

  "What _can_ you speak, then?" demanded Harold sternly.

  "Portigeese, Arbik, Fengleesh, an' two, tree, four, nigger lungwiches."

  It was very obvious that, whatever Antonio spoke, he spoke nothingcorrectly, but that was of no importance so long as the man could makehimself understood. Harold therefore asked if he would join his partyas interpreter, but Antonio shook his head.

  "Why not man--why not?" asked Harold impatiently, for he became anxiousto secure him, just in proportion as he evinced disinclination toengage.

  "Speak up, Antonio, don't be ashamed; you've no need to," said Disco."The fact is, sir, Antonio tells me that he has just bin married, an' hedon't want to leave his wife."

  "Very natural," observed Harold. "How long is it since you weremarried?"

  "Von veek since I did bought her."

  "Bought her!" exclaimed Disco, with a broad grin; "may I ax wot ye paidfor her?"

  "Paid!" exclaimed the man, starting and opening his eyes very wide, asif the contemplation of the vast sum were too much for him; "lat mezee--me pay me vife's pairyints sixteen yard ob cottin clothe, an' forme's hut four yard morer."

  "Ye don't say that?" exclaimed Disco, with an extended grin. "Is sheyoung an' good-lookin'?"

  "Yonge!" replied Antonio; "yis, ver' yonge; not mush more dan baby, an'exiquitely bootiful."

  "Then, my good feller," said Disco, with a laugh, "the sooner you leaveher the better. A week is a long time, an' absence, you know, as theold song says, makes the heart grow fonder; besides, Mr Seadrift willgive you enough to buy a dozen wives, if 'ee want 'em."

  "Yes, I'll pay you well," said Harold; "that is, if you prove to be agood interpreter."

  Antonio pricked up his ears at this.

  "How mush vill 'oo gif?" he asked.

  "Well, let me think; I shall probably be away three or four months.What would you say, Antonio, to twenty yards of cotton cloth a month,and a gun into the bargain at the end, if you do your work well?"

  The pleased expression of Antonio's face could not have been greater hadhe been offered twenty pounds sterling a month. The reader may estimatethe value of this magnificent offer when we say that a yard of cottoncloth was at that time sevenpence-halfpenny, so that Antonio's valuableservices were obtained for about 12 shillings, 6 pence a month, and agun which cost Harold less than twenty shillings in Zanzibar.

  We may remark here that Antonio afterwards proved to be a stout, able,willing man, and a faithful servant, although a most arrant coward.

  From this time Harold's difficulties in regard to men vanished. WithAntonio's able assistance nine were procured, stout, young, able-bodiedfellows they were, and all more or less naked. Two of these werehalf-caste brothers, named respectively Jose and Oliveira; two werehalf-wild negroes of the Somali tribe named Nakoda and Conda; three werenegroes of the Makololo tribe, who had accompanied Dr Livingstone onhis journey from the far interior of Africa to the East Coast, and werenamed respectively Jumbo, Zombo, and Masiko; and finally two, namedSongolo and Mabruki, were free negroes of Quillimane. Thus the wholeband, including Disco and the leader, formed a goodly company of twelvestout men.

  Of course Harold armed them all with guns and knives. Himself and Discocarried Enfield rifles; besides which, Harold took with him a sparerifle of heavy calibre, carrying large balls, mingled with tin to hardenthem. This latter was intended for large game. Landing near the EastLuavo mouth of the Zambesi, our hero was fortunate enough to procure twoserviceable canoes, into which he transferred himself, his men, and hisgoods, and, bidding adieu to the Arab skipper of the dhow, commenced hisjourney into the interior of Africa.