CHAPTER VIII.
NOTES BY THE WAY.
The storm of the preceding evening had now passed away, but the sky wasstill cloudy and the weather far from settled. It was the 19th ofApril, the time of the _masika_, or second period of the rainy season,so that for the next two or three weeks the nights might be expected tobe wet.
On leaving the banks of the Coanza the caravan proceeded due east.Soldiers marched at the head and in the rear, as well as upon theflanks of the troop; any escape of the prisoners, therefore, even ifthey had not been loaded with their fetters, would have been utterlyimpossible. They were all driven along without any attempt at order,the havildars using their whips unsparingly upon them whenever theyshowed signs of flagging. Some poor mothers could be seen carrying twoinfants, one on each arm, whilst others led by the hand naked children,whose feet were sorely cut by the rough ground over which they had trod.
Ibn Hamish, the Arab who had interfered between Dick and the havildar,acted as commander to the caravan, and was here, there, and everywhere;not moved in the least by the sufferings of the captives, but obligedto be attentive to the importunities of the soldiers and porters, whowere perpetually clamouring for extra rations, or demanding animmediate halt. Loud were the discussions that arose, and the uproarbecame positively deafening when the quarrelsome voices rose above theshrieks of the slaves, many of whom found themselves treading upon soilalready stained by the blood of the ranks in front.
If ever the havildar strolled a few yards away, Bat tookthe opportunity of murmuring a few words of encouragement to this poorold father.]
No chance again opened for Dick to get any communication with hisfriends, who had been sent to the van of the procession. Urged on bythe whip they continued to march in single file, their heads in theheavy forks. If ever the havildar strolled a few yards away, Bat tookthe opportunity of murmuring a few words of encouragement to his poorold father, while he tried to pick out the easiest path for him, and torelax the pace to suit his enfeebled limbs. Large tears rolled down oldTom's cheeks when he found that his son's efforts only resulted inbringing down upon his back some sharp cuts of the havildar's whip.Actaeon and Austin, subject to hardly less brutality, followed a fewsteps behind, but all four could not help feeling envious at the luckof Hercules, who might have dangers to encounter, but at least had hisliberty.
Immediately upon their capture, Tom had revealed to his companions thefact that they were in Africa, and informing them how they had beenbetrayed by Harris, made them understand that they had no mercy toexpect.
Old Nan had been placed amongst a group of women in the central ranks.She was chained to a young mother with two children, the one at thebreast, the other only three years old, and scarcely able to walk.Moved by compassion, Nan took the little one into her own arms, thusnot only saving it from fatigue, but from the blows it would verylikely have received for lagging behind. The mother shed tears ofgratitude, but the weight was almost too much for Nan's strength, andshe felt as if she must break down under her self-imposed burden. Shethought fondly of little Jack, and imagining him borne along in thearms of his weary mother, could not help asking herself whether sheshould ever see him or her kind mistress again.
Far in the rear, Dick could not see the head of the caravan exceptoccasionally, when the ground was rather on the rise. The voices of theagents and drivers, harsh and excited as they were, scarcely roused himfrom his melancholy reflections. His thoughts were not of himself norof his own sufferings; his whole attention was absorbed in looking forsome traces of Mrs. Weldon's progress; if she, too, was being taken toKazonnde, her route must also lie this way. But he could discover notrace of her having been conducted by this line of march, and couldonly hope that she was being spared the cruelties which he was himselfwitnessing.
The forest extended for about twenty miles to the east of the Coanza,but whether it was that the trees had been destroyed by the ravages ofinsects, or broken down before they had made their growth by beingtrampled on by elephants, they were growing much less thickly than inthe immediate vicinity of the river. There were numbers ofcotton-trees, seven or eight feet high, from which are manufactured theblack-and-white striped stuffs that are worn in the interior of theprovince; but, upon the whole, progress was not much impeded either byshrubs or underwood. Occasionally the caravan plunged into jungles ofreeds like bamboos, their stalks an inch in diameter, so tall that onlyan elephant or giraffe could have reared above them, and through whichnone excepting such as had a very intimate knowledge of the countrycould possibly have made their way.
Starting every morning at daybreak they marched till noon, when anhour's halt was made. Packets of manioc were then unfastened, and doledout in sparing quantities among the slaves; sometimes, when thesoldiers had plundered some village, a little goat's flesh or somesweet potatoes were added to the meal; but generally the fatigue,aggravated by inadequate rest, took away the appetite, and whenmeal-time arrived many of the slaves could hardly eat at all. Duringthe first eight days' march from the Coanza no less than twentyunfortunate wretches had fallen upon the road, and had been leftbehind, a prey to the lions, panthers, and leopards that prowled in thewake. As Dick heard their roars in the stillness of the night, hetrembled as he thought of Hercules. Nevertheless, had the opportunityoffered itself, he would not for a moment have hesitated in making hisown escape to the wilderness.
The caravan had been attacked on the flank by a dozen ormore crocodiles.]
The two hundred and fifty miles between the river and Kazonnde wereaccomplished in what the traders call marches of ten miles each,including the halts at night and midday. The journey cannot be betterdescribed than by a few rough notes that Dick Sands made upon his way.
_April 25th_.--Saw a village surrounded with bamboo palisading, eightor nine feet high. Fields round planted with maize, beans, and sorghum.Two negroes captured, fifteen killed, rest took to flight.
_26th_.--Crossed a torrent 150 yards wide. Bridge formed of trunks oftrees and creepers. Piles nearly gave way; two women fastened to afork; one of them, carrying a baby, fell into the water. Water quicklytinged with blood; crocodiles seen under bridge; risk of stepping intotheir very jaws.
_28th_.--Crossed a forest of bauhinias; great trees, the iron-wood ofthe Portuguese. Heavy rain; ground sodden; marching difficult. Caughtsight of Nan in the middle of caravan; she was toiling along with ablack child in her arms; the woman with her limping, and bloodtrickling from her shoulder.
_29th_.--Camp at night under a huge baobab, with white flowers andlight green leaves. Lions and leopards roaring all night. A soldierfired at a panther. What has become of Hercules?
_30th_.--Rainy season said to be over till November. First touch ofAfrican winter. Dew very heavy. Plains all flooded. Easterly winds:difficulty of respiration; susceptibility to fever. No trace of Mrs.Weldon; cannot tell whether she is ahead. Fear Jack may have a returnof fever.
_May 5th_.--Forced to march several stages across flooded plains, waterup to the waist; many leeches sticking to the skin. Lotus and papyrusupon higher ground. Great heavy leaves, like cabbages, beneath thewater, make many stumble as they walk. Saw large numbers of littlefish, silurus-species; these are caught by the natives, and sold to thecaravans.
_7th_.--Plain still inundated. Last night, no halting-place to befound. Marched on through the darkness. Great misery. Except for Mrs.Weldon, life not worth having; for her sake must hold out. Loud criesheard. Saw, by the lightning, soldiers breaking large boughs from theresinous trees that emerged from the water. The caravan had beenattacked on the flank by a dozen or more crocodiles; women and childrenseized and carried off to what Livingstone calls their "pasture-lands,"the holes where they deposit their prey until it is decomposed. Myselfgrazed by the scales of one of them. A slave close beside me torn outof the fork, which was snapped in half. How the poor fellow's cry ofagony rings in my ear! This morning, twenty missing. Tom and theothers, thank God! are still alive. They are on in front. Once Bat madea sharp turn,
and Tom caught sight of me. Nothing to be seen of Nan;was she, poor creature, one of those that the crocodiles had got?
_8th_.--After twenty-four hours in the water we have crossed the plain.We have halted on a hill. The sun helps to dry us. Nothing to eatexcept a little manioc and a few handfuls of maize. Only muddy water todrink. Impossible for Mrs. Weldon to survive these hardships; I hopefrom my heart that she has been taken some other way. Small-pox hasbroken out in the caravan; those that have it are to be left behind.
_9th_.--Started at dawn. No stragglers allowed; sick and weary must bekept together by havildars' whip; the losses were considerable. Livingskeletons all round. Rejoiced once more to catch sight of Nan. She wasnot carrying the child any longer; she was alone; the chain was roundher waist, but she had the loose end thrown over her shoulder. I gotclose to her; suppose I am altered, as she did not know me. After I hadcalled her by name several times she stared at me, and at last said,"Ah, Mr. Dick, is it you? you will not see me here much longer." Hercadaverous look pained my very soul, but I tried to speak hopefully.Poor Nan shook her head. "I shall never see my dear mistress again; no,nor master Jack; I shall soon die." Anxious to help her, I would gladlyhave carried the end of the chain which she had been obliged to bearbecause her fellow-prisoner was dead. A rough hand was soon upon myshoulder; a cruel lash had made Nan retreat to the general crowd,whilst, at the bidding of an Arab chief, I was hustled back to the veryhindmost rank of the procession. I overheard the word Negoro, in a waythat convinced me that it is under the direction of the Portuguese thatI am subject to this hard indignity.
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_11th_.--Last night encamped under some large trees on the skirts of aforest. Several escaped prisoners recaptured; their punishmentbarbarously cruel. Loud roaring of lions and hyenas heard at nightfall,also snorting of hippopotamuses; probably some lake or water-course notfar off. Tired, but could not sleep; heard a rustling in the grass;felt sure that something was going to attack me; what could I do? I hadno gun. For Mrs. Weldon's sake, must, if possible, preserve my life.The night was dark; no moon; two eyes gleamed upon me; I was about toutter a cry of alarm; fortunately, I suppressed it; the creature thathad sprung to my feet was Dingo! The dog licked my hands all over,persisting in rubbing his neck against them, evidently to make me feelthere; found a reed fastened to the well-known collar upon which theinitials S.V. had so often awakened our curiosity; breaking open thereed, I took a note from inside; it was too dark for me to see to readit. I tried, by caressing Dingo, to detain him; but the dog appeared toknow that his mission with me was at an end; he licked my handsaffectionately, made a sudden bound, and disappeared in the long grassas mysteriously as he had come. The howling of the wild beastsincreased. How I dreaded that the faithful creature would become theirprey! No more sleep this night for me. It seemed that daylight wouldnever dawn; at length it broke with the suddenness that marks atropical morn. I was able cautiously to read my note; the handwriting,I knew at a glance, was that of Hercules; there were but a few lines inpencil:--
"Mrs. Weldon and Jack carried away in a kitanda.
"Harris and Negoro both with them. Mr. Benedict too. Only a few marchesahead, but cannot be communicated with at present. Found Dingo woundedby a gun-shot. Dear Mr. Dick, do not despair; keep up your courage. Imay help you yet.
"Your ever true and faithful
"HERCULES."
As far as it went, this intelligence was satisfactory. A kitanda, Iknow, is a kind of litter made of dry grass, protected by a curtain,and carried on the shoulders of two men by a long bamboo. What a reliefto know that Mrs. Weldon and Jack have been spared the miseries of thisdreadful march! May I not indulge the hope of seeing them at Kazonnde?
_12th_.--The prisoners getting more and more weary and worn out.Blood-stains on the way still more conspicuous. Many poor wretches area mass of wounds. One poor woman for two days has carried her deadchild, from which she refuses to be parted.
_16th_.--Small-pox raging; the road strewn with corpses. Still ten daysbefore we reach Kazonnde. Just passed a tree from which slaves who haddied from hunger were hanging by the neck.
_18th_.--Must not give in, but I am almost exhausted. Rains haveceased. We are to make what the dealers call _trikesa_, extra marchesin the after-part of the day. Road very steep; runs through _nyassi_,tall grass of which the stalks scratch my face, and the seeds get undermy tattered clothes and make my skin smart painfully. My bootsfortunately are thick, and have not worn out. More slaves sick andabandoned to take their chance. Provisions running very short; soldiersand pagazis must be satisfied, otherwise they desert; consequently theslaves are all but starved. "They can eat each other," say the agents.A young slave, apparently in good health, dropped down dead. It made methink of Livingstone's description of how free-born men, reduced toslavery, will suddenly press their hand on their side, and die of abroken heart.
More slaves sick, and abandoned to take their chance.]
_24th_.--Twenty captives, incapable any longer of keeping pace with therest, put to death by the havildars, the Arab chief offering noopposition. Poor old Nan one of the victims of this horrible butchery.My foot struck her corpse as I passed, but I was not permitted to giveher a decent burial. Poor old Nan! the first of the survivors of the"Pilgrim" to go to her long rest! Poor old Nan!
Every night I watch for Dingo; but he never comes. Has Hercules nothingmore to communicate? or has any mishap befallen him? If he is alive hewill do what mortal strength can do to aid us.