CHAPTER II.
ACCOMPLICES.
On the day following that on which Dick Sands and his party had madetheir last halt in the forest, two men met by appointment at a spotabout three miles distant.
The two men were Harris and Negoro, the one lately landed from NewZealand, the other pursuing his wonted occupation of slave-dealer inthe province of Angola. They were seated at the foot of an enormousbanyan-tree, on the banks of a rushing torrent that streamed betweentall borders of papyrus.
After the conversation had turned awhile upon the events of the lastfew hours, Negoro said abruptly,--
"Couldn't you manage to get that young fifteen-year-old any fartherinto the interior?"
"No, indeed; it was a hard matter enough to bring him thus far; for thelast few days his suspicions have been wide awake."
"But just another hundred miles, you know," continued Negoro, "wouldhave finished the business off well, and those black fellows would havebeen ours to a dead certainty."
"Don't I tell you, my dear fellow, that it was more than time for me togive them the slip?" replied Harris, shrugging his shoulders. "Only toowell I knew that our young friend was longing to put a shot into mybody, and that was a sugar-plum I might not be able to digest."
The Portuguese gave a grunt of assent, and Harris went on,--
"For several days I succeeded well enough. I managed to palm off thecountry as the forest of Atacama, which you may recollect I oncevisited; but when the youngster began to ask for gutta-percha andhumming-birds, and his mother wanted quinquina-trees, and when that oldfool of a cousin was bent on finding cocuyos, I was rather nonplussed.One day I had to swear that giraffes were ostriches, but the youngcaptain did not seem to swallow the dose at all easily. Then we sawtraces of elephants and hippopotamuses, which of course are as oftenseen in America as an honest man in a Benguela penitentiary; then thatold nigger Tom discovered a lot of forks and chains left by somerunaway slaves at the foot of a tree; but when, last of all, a lionroared,--and the noise, you know, is rather louder than the mewing of acat,--I thought it was time to take my horse and decamp."
Negoro repeated his expression of regret that the whole party had notbeen carried another hundred miles into the province.
"It really cannot be helped," rejoined the American; "I have done thebest I could; and I think, mate," he added confidentially, "that youhave done wisely in following the caravan at a good distance; that dogof theirs evidently owes you a grudge, and might prove an uglycustomer."
"I shall put a bullet into that beast's head before long," growledNegoro.
"Take care you don't get one through your own first," laughed Harris;"that young Sands, I warn you, is a first-rate shot, and betweenourselves, is rather a fine fellow of his kind."
"Fine fellow, indeed!" sneered Negoro; "whatever he is, he is a youngupstart, and I have a long score to wipe off against him;" and, as hespoke, an expression of the utmost malignity passed over hiscountenance.
Harris smiled.
"Well, mate," he said; "your travels have not improved your temper, Isee. But come now, tell me what you have been doing all this time. WhenI found you just after the wreck, at the mouth of the Longa, you hadonly time to ask me to get this party, somehow or other, up into thecountry. But it is just upon two years since you left Cassange withthat caravan of slaves for our old master Alvez. What have you beendoing since? The last I heard of you was that you had run foul of anEnglish cruiser, and that you were condemned to be hanged."
"So I was very nearly," muttered Negoro.
"Ah, well, that will come sooner or later," rejoined the American withphilosophic indifference; "men of our trade can't expect to die quietlyin our beds, you know. But were you caught by the English?"
"No, by the Portuguese."
"Before you had got rid of your cargo?"
Negoro hesitated a moment before replying.
"No," he said, presently, and added, "The Portuguese have changed theirgame: for a long time they carried on the trade themselves, but nowthey have got wonderfully particular; so I was caught, and condemned toend my days in the penitentiary at St. Paul de Loanda."
"Confound it!" exclaimed Harris, "a hundred times better be hanged!"
"I'm not so sure of that," the Portuguese replied, "for when I had beenat the galleys about a fortnight I managed to escape, and got into thehold of an English steamer bound for New Zealand. I wedged myself inbetween a cask of water and a case of preserved meat, and so managed toexist for a month. It was close quarters, I can tell you, but Ipreferred to travel incognito rather than run the risk of being handedover again to the authorities at Loanda."
"Well done!" exclaimed the American, "and so you had a free passage tothe land of the Maoris. But you didn't come back in the same fashion?"
"No; I always had a hankering to be here again at my old trade; but fora year and a half...."
He stopped abruptly, and grasped Harris by the arm.
"Hush," he whispered, "didn't you hear a rustling in that clump ofpapyrus?"
In a moment Harris had caught up his loaded gun; and both men, startingto their feet, looked anxiously around them.
"It was nothing," said Harris presently; "the stream is swollen by thestorm, that is all; your two years' travelling has made you forget thesounds of the forest, mate. Sit down again, and go on with your story.When I know the past, I shall be better able to talk about the future."
They reseated themselves, and Negoro went on,--
"For a whole year and a half I vegetated at Auckland. I left the holdof the steamer without a dollar in my pocket, and had to turn my handto every trade imaginable in order to get a living."
"Poor fellow! I daresay you even tried the trade of being an honestman," put in the American.
"Just so," said Negoro, "and in course of time the 'Pilgrim,' thevessel by which I came here, put in at Auckland. While she was waitingto take Mrs. Weldon and her party on board, I applied to the captainfor a post, for I was once mate on board a slaver, and know somethingof seamanship. The 'Pilgrim's' crew was complete, but fortunately theship's cook had just deserted; I offered to supply his place; indefault of better my services were accepted, and in a few days we wereout of sight of New Zealand."
"I have heard something about the voyage from young Sands," saidHarris, "but even now I can't understand how you reached here."
"Neither does he," said Negoro, with a malicious grin. "I will tell younow, and you may repeat the story to your young friend if you like."
"Well, go on," said Harris.
"When we started," continued Negoro, "it was my intention to sail onlyas far as Chili: that would have brought me nearly half way to Angola;but three weeks after leaving Auckland, Captain Hull and all his crewwere lost in chasing a whale, and I and the apprentice were the onlyseamen left on board."
"Then why in the name of peace didn't you take command of the ship?"exclaimed Harris.
Both men, starting to their feet, looked anxiouslyaround them.]
"Because there were five strong niggers who didn't trust me; so, onsecond thoughts, I determined to keep my old post as cook."
"Then do you mean to say that it was mere accident that brought you tothe coast of Africa?"
"Not a bit of it; the only accident,--and a very lucky one it was--wasmeeting you on the very spot where we stranded. But it was my doingthat we got so far. Young Sands understood nothing more of navigationthan the use of the log and compass. Well, one fine day, youunderstand, the log remained at the bottom of the sea, and one nightthe compass was tampered with, so that the 'Pilgrim,' scudding alongbefore a tempest, was carried altogether out of her course. You mayimagine the young captain was puzzled at the length of the voyage; itwould have bewildered a more experienced head than his. Before he wasaware of it, we had rounded Cape Horn; I recognized it through themist. Then at once I put the compass to rights again, and the 'Pilgrim'was carried north-eastwards by a tremendous hurricane to the very placeI wanted. The island Dick Sands to
ok for Easter Island was reallyTristan d'Acunha."
"Good!" said Harris; "I think I understand now how our friends havebeen persuaded to take Angola for Bolivia. But they are undeceived now,you know," he added.
"I know all about that," replied the Portuguese.
"Then what do you intend to do?" said Harris.
"You will see," answered Negoro significantly; "but first of all tellme something about our employer, old Alvez; how is he?"
"Oh, the old rascal is well enough, and will be delighted to see youagain," replied Harris.
"Is he at the market at Bihe?"
"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 arewaiting to be shipped to the Spanish colonies, but the difficulty ishow to get them embarked. The Portuguese authorities on the one hand,and the English cruisers on the other, almost put a stop to exportationaltogether; down to the south, near Mossamedes, is the only part whereit can be attempted with any chance of success. To pass a caravanthrough Benguela or Loande is an utter impossibility; neither thegovernors nor the chefes[1] will listen to a word of reason. Old Alvezis therefore thinking of going in the other direction towards Nyangweand Lake Tanganyika; he can there exchange his goods for slaves andivory, and is sure to do a good business with Upper Egypt and the coastof Mozambique, which supplies Madagascar. But I tell you, Negoro," headded gravely, "I believe the time is coming when the slave-trade willcome to an end altogether. The English missionaries are advancing intothe interior. That fellow Livingstone, confound him! has finished histour of the lakes, and is now working his way towards Angola; thenthere is another man named Cameron who is talking about crossing thecontinent from east to west, and it is feared that Stanley the Americanwill do the same. All this exploration, you know, is ruinous to ourbusiness, and it is to our interest that not one of these travellersshould be allowed to return to tell tales of us in Europe."
[Footnote 1: Subordinate Portuguese governors at secondary stations.]
Harris spoke like a merchant embarrassed by a temporary commercialcrisis. The atrocious scenes to which the slave-dealers are accustomedseems to render them impervious to all sense of justice or humanity,and they learn to regard their living merchandize with as small concernas though they were dealing with chests of tea or hogsheads of sugar.
But Harris was right when he asserted that civilization must follow thewake of the intrepid pioneers of African discovery. Livingstone first,and after him, Grant, Speke, Burton, Cameron, Stanley, are the heroeswhose names will ever be linked with the first dawnings of a brighterage upon the dark wilds of Equatorial Africa.
Having ascertained that his accomplice had returned unscrupulous anddaring as ever, and fully prepared to pursue his former calling as anagent of old Alvez the slave dealer, Harris inquired what he proposeddoing with the survivors of the "Pilgrim" now that they were in hishands.
"Divide them into two lots," answered Negoro, without a moment'shesitation, "one for the market, the other...."
He did not finish his sentence, but the expression of his countenancewas an index to the malignity of his purpose.
"Which shall you sell?" asked the American.
"The niggers, of course. The old one is not worth much, but the otherfour ought to fetch a good price at Kazonnde."
"Yes, you are right," said Harris; "American-born slaves, with plentyof work in them, are rare articles, and very different to the miserablewretches we get up the country. But you never told me," he added,suddenly changing the subject, "whether you found any money on boardthe 'Pilgrim'!"
"Oh, I rescued a few hundred dollars from the wreck, that was all,"said the Portuguese carelessly; "but I am expecting...." he stoppedshort.
"What are you expecting?" inquired Harris eagerly.
"Oh, nothing, nothing," said Negoro, apparently annoyed that he hadsaid so much, and immediately began talking of the means of securingthe living prey which he had been taking so many pains to entrap.Harris informed him that on the Coanza, about ten miles distant, therewas at the present time encamped a slave caravan, under the control ofan Arab named Ibn Hamish; plenty of native soldiers were there onguard, and if Dick Sands and his people could only be induced to travelin that direction, their capture would be a matter of very littledifficulty. He said that of course Dick Sands' first thought wouldnaturally be how to get back to the coast; it was not likely that hewould venture a second time through the forest, but would in allprobability try to make his way to the nearest river, and descend itscourse on a raft to the sea. The nearest river was undoubtedly theCoanza, so that he and Negoro might feel quite sure of meeting "theirfriends" upon its banks.
"If you really think so," said Negoro, "there is not much time to belost; whatever young Sands determines to do, he will do at once: henever lets the grass 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 rustlingin the papyrus which had previously aroused Negoro's fears. Presently alow growl was heard, and a large dog, showing his teeth, emerged fromthe 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 firedjust as the dog was in the act of springing at his throat. A long whineof pain followed the report, and Dingo disappeared again amongst thebushes that fringed the stream. Negoro was instantly upon his track,but could discover nothing beyond a few blood-stains upon the stalks ofthe 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 hereturned from his fruitless search.
Harris, who had been a silent spectator of the whole scene, now askedcoolly,--
"What makes that animal have such an inveterate dislike to you?"
"Oh, there is an old score to settle between us," replied thePortuguese.
"What about?" inquired the American.
Negoro made no reply, and finding him evidently disinclined to becommunicative on the subject, Harris did not press the matter anyfurther.
A few moments later the two men were descending the stream, and makingtheir way through the forest towards the Coanza.
Dingo disappeared again amongst the bushes]