Part 26 (1/2)

”No, he has been at his place at Kazonnde for a year or more.”

”And how does business go on?”

”Badly enough, on this coast,” said Harris; ”plenty of slaves are waiting to be s.h.i.+pped to the Spanish colonies, but the difficulty is how to get them embarked. The Portuguese authorities on the one hand, and the English cruisers on the other, almost put a stop to exportation altogether; down to the south, near Mossamedes, is the only part where it can be attempted with any chance of success. To pa.s.s a caravan through Benguela or Loande is an utter impossibility; neither the governors nor the chefes

[Footnote 1: Subordinate Portuguese governors at secondary stations.] will listen to a word of reason. Old Alvez is therefore thinking of going in the other direction towards Nyangwe and Lake Tanganyika; he can there exchange his goods for slaves and ivory, and is sure to do a good business with Upper Egypt and the coast of Mozambique, which supplies Madagascar. But I tell you, Negoro,” he added gravely, ”I believe the time is coming when the slave-trade will come to an end altogether. The English missionaries are advancing into the interior. That fellow Livingstone, confound him! has finished his tour of the lakes, and is now working his way towards Angola; then there is another man named Cameron who is talking about crossing the continent from east to west, and it is feared that Stanley the American will do the same. All this exploration, you know, is ruinous to our business, and it is to our interest that not one of these travellers should be allowed to return to tell tales of us in Europe.”

Harris spoke like a merchant embarra.s.sed by a temporary commercial crisis. The atrocious scenes to which the slave-dealers are accustomed seems to render them impervious to all sense of justice or humanity, and they learn to regard their living merchandize with as small concern as though they were dealing with chests of tea or hogsheads of sugar.

But Harris was right when he a.s.serted that civilization must follow the wake of the intrepid pioneers of African discovery. Livingstone first, and after him, Grant, Speke, Burton, Cameron, Stanley, are the heroes whose names will ever be linked with the first dawnings of a brighter age upon the dark wilds of Equatorial Africa.

Having ascertained that his accomplice had returned unscrupulous and daring as ever, and fully prepared to pursue his former calling as an agent of old Alvez the slave dealer, Harris inquired what he proposed doing with the survivors of the ”Pilgrim” now that they were in his hands.

”Divide them into two lots,” answered Negoro, without a moment's hesitation, ”one for the market, the other....”

He did not finish his sentence, but the expression of his countenance was an index to the malignity of his purpose.

”Which shall you sell?” asked the American.

”The n.i.g.g.e.rs, of course. The old one is not worth much, but the other four ought to fetch a good price at Kazonnde.”

”Yes, you are right,” said Harris; ”American-born slaves, with plenty of work in them, are rare articles, and very different to the miserable wretches we get up the country. But you never told me,” he added, suddenly changing the subject, ”whether you found any money on board the 'Pilgrim'!”

”Oh, I rescued a few hundred dollars from the wreck, that was all,” said the Portuguese carelessly; ”but I am expecting....” he stopped short.

”What are you expecting?” inquired Harris eagerly.

”Oh, nothing, nothing,” said Negoro, apparently annoyed that he had said so much, and immediately began talking of the means of securing the living prey which he had been taking so many pains to entrap. Harris informed him that on the Coanza, about ten miles distant, there was at the present time encamped a slave caravan, under the control of an Arab named Ibn Hamish; plenty of native soldiers were there on guard, and if d.i.c.k Sands and his people could only be induced to travel in that direction, their capture would be a matter of very little difficulty. He said that of course d.i.c.k Sands' first thought would naturally be how to get back to the coast; it was not likely that he would venture a second time through the forest, but would in all probability try to make his way to the nearest river, and descend its course on a raft to the sea. The nearest river was undoubtedly the Coanza, so that he and Negoro might feel quite sure of meeting ”their friends” upon its banks.

”If you really think so,” said Negoro, ”there is not much time to be lost; whatever young Sands determines to do, he will do at once: he never lets the gra.s.s grow under his feet.”

”Let us start, then, this very moment, mate,” was Harris's reply.

Both rose to their feet, when they were startled by the same rustling in the papyrus which had previously aroused Negoro's fears. Presently a low growl was heard, and a large dog, showing his teeth, emerged from the bushes, evidently prepared for an attack.

”It's Dingo!” exclaimed Harris.

”Confound the brute! he shall not escape me this time,” said Negoro.

He caught up Harris's gun, and raising it to his shoulder, he fired just as the dog was in the act of springing at his throat. A long whine of pain followed the report, and Dingo disappeared again amongst the bushes that fringed the stream. Negoro was instantly upon his track, but could discover nothing beyond a few blood-stains upon the stalks of the papyrus, and a long crimson trail upon the pebbles on the bank.

”I think I have done for the beast now,” was Negoro's remark as he returned from his fruitless search.

Harris, who had been a silent spectator of the whole scene, now asked coolly,-

”What makes that animal have such an inveterate dislike to you?”

”Oh, there is an old score to settle between us,” replied the Portuguese.

”What about?” inquired the American.