Without making any direct reply, Dick proceeded to instruct the negroes to choose such of the provisions as were most easy of transport, and to make them up into packages, that every one might carry a due share. Hercules with his usual good nature professed himself willing to carry the entire load; a proposal, however, to which Dick would not listen for a moment.
"You are a fine fellow, Hercules" said Harris, scrutinizing the giant with the eye of a connoisseur; "you would be worth something in the African market."
"Those who want me now must catch me first," retorted Hercules, with a grin.
The services of all hands were enlisted, and in a comparatively short time sufficient food was packed up to supply the party for about ten days' march.
"You must allow us to show you what hospitality is in our power," said Mrs. Weldon, addressing her new acquaintance; "our breakfast will be ready in a quarter of an hour, and we shall be happy if you will join us."
"It will give me much pleasure," answered Harris, gaily; "I will employ the interval in fetching my horse, who has breakfasted already."
"I will accompany you," said Dick.
"By all means, my young friend; come with me, and I will show you the lower part of the river."
While they were gone, Hercules was sent in search of Cousin Benedict, who was wandering on the top of the cliff in quest of some wonderful insect, which, of course, was not to be found. Without asking his permission, Hercules unceremoniously brought him back to Mrs. Weldon, who explained how they were about to start upon a ten days' march into the interior of the country. The entomologist was quite satisfied with the arrangement, and declared himself ready for a march across the entire continent, as long as he was free to be adding to his collection on the way.
Thus assured of her cousin's acquiescence in her plans; Mrs. Weldon proceeded to prepare such a substantial meal as she hoped would invigorate them all for the approaching journey.
Harris and Dick Sands, meantime, had turned the corner of the cliff, and walked about 300 paces along the shore until they came to a tree to which a horse was tethered. The creature neighed as it recognized its master. It was a strong-built animal, of a kind that Dick had not seen
[Illustration: They came to a tree to which a horse was tethered.]
before, although its long neck and crupper, short loins, flat shoulders and arched forehead indicated that it was of Arabian breed.
"Plenty of strength here," Harris said, as after unfastening the horse, he took it by the bridle and began to lead it along the shore.
Dick made no reply; he was casting a hasty glance at the forest which enclosed them on either hand; it was an unattractive sight, but he observed nothing to give him any particular ground for uneasiness.
Turning round, he said abruptly,-
"Did you meet a Portuguese last night, named Negoro?"
"Negoro? who is Negoro?" asked Harris, in a tone of surprise.
"He was our ship's cook; but he has disappeared."
"Drowned, probably," said Harris indifferently.
"No, he was not drowned; he was with us during the evening, but left afterwards; I thought perhaps you might have met him along the river-side, as you came that way."
"No," said Harris, "I saw no one; if your cook ventured alone into the forest, most likely he has lost his way; it is possible we may pick him up upon our road."
When they arrived at the grotto, they found breakfast duly prepared. Like the supper of the previous evening it consisted mainly of corned beef and biscuit. Harris did ample justice to the repast.
"There is no fear of our starving as we go," he observed to Mrs. Weldon; "but I can hardly say so much for the unfortunate Portuguese, your cook, of whom my young friend here has been speaking."
"Ah! has Dick been telling you about Negoro?" Mrs. Weldon said.
Dick explained that he had been inquiring whether Mr. Harris had happened to meet him in the direction he had come.
"I saw nothing of him," Harris repeated; "and as he has deserted you, you need not give yourselves any concern about him." And apparently glad to turn the subject, he said, "Now, madam, I am at your service; shall we start at once?"
It was agreed that there was no cause for delay. Each one took up the package that had been assigned him. Mrs. Weldon, with Hercules' help, mounted the horse, and Jack, with his miniature gun slung across his shoulder, was placed astride in front of her. Without a thought of acknowledging the kindness of the good-natured stranger in providing him so enjoyable a ride, the heedless little fellow declared himself quite capable of guiding the "gentleman's horse," and when to indulge him the bridle was put into his hand, he looked as proud as though he had been appointed leader of the whole caravan.
Although there was no obvious cause for apprehension, it cannot be denied that it was with a certain degree of foreboding that Dick Sands first entered that dense forest, through which for the next ten days they were all to wend their toilsome way.
Mrs. Weldon, on the contrary, was full of confidence and hope. A woman and a mother, she might have been expected to be conscious of anxiety at the peril to which she might be exposing herself and her child; and doubtless she would have been sensible of alarm if her mind had not been fully satisfied upon two points; first, that the portion of the pampas they were about to traverse was little infested either by natives or by dangerous beasts; and secondly, that she was under the protection of a guide so trustworthy as she believed Harris to be.
The entrance to the forest was hardly more than three hundred paces up the river. An order of march had been arranged which was to be observed as closely as possible throughout the journey. At the head of the troop were Harris and Dick Sands, one armed with his long gun, the other with his Remington; next came Bat and Austin, each carrying a gun and a cutlass, then Mrs. Weldon and Jack, on horseback, closely followed by Tom and old Nan, while Actæon with the fourth Remington, and Hercules with a huge hatchet in his waist-belt, brought up the rear. Dingo had no especial place in the procession, but wandered to and fro at his pleasure. Ever since he had been cast ashore Dick had noticed a remarkable change in the dog's behaviour; the animal was in a constant state of agitation, always apparently on the search for some lost scent, and repeatedly giving vent to a low growl, which seemed to proceed from grief rather than from rage.
As for Cousin Benedict, his movements were permitted to be nearly as erratic as Dingo's; nothing but a leading-string could possibly have kept him in the ranks. With his tin box under his arm, and his butterfly net in his hand, and his huge magnifying-glass suspended from his neck, he would be sometimes far ahead, sometimes a long way behind, and at the risk of being attacked by some venomous snake, would make frantic dashes into the tall grass whenever he espied some attractive orthoptera or other insect which he thought might be honoured by a place in his collection.
In one hour after starting Mrs. Weldon had called to him a dozen times without the slightest effect. At last she told him seriously that if he would not give up chasing the insects at a distance, she should be obliged to take possession of his tin box.
"Take away my box!" he cried, with as much horror as if she had threatened to tear out his vitals.
"Yes, your box and your net too!"
"My box and my net! but surely not my spectacles!" almost shrieked the excited entomologist.
"Yes, and your spectacles as well!" added Mrs. Weldon mercilessly; "I am glad you have reminded me of another means of reducing you to obedience!"
The triple penalty of which he was thus warned had the effect of keeping him from wandering away for the best part of the next hour, but he was soon once more missing from the ranks; he was manifestly incorrigible; the deprivation of box, net, and spectacles would, it was acknowledged, be utterly without avail to prevent him from rambling. Accordingly it was thought better to let him have his own way, especially as Hercules volunteered to keep his eye upon him, and to endeavour to guard the worthy naturalist as carefully as he would himself protect some precious
[Illustration: The way across the forest could scarcely be called a path.]
specimen of a lepidoptera. Further anxiety on his account was thus put to rest.
In spite of Harris's confident assertion that they were little likely to be molested by any of the nomad Indians, the whole company rejoiced in feeling that they were well armed, and they resolved to keep in a compact body. The way across the forest could scarcely be called a path; it was, in fact, little more than the track of animals, and progress along it was necessarily very slow; indeed it seemed impossible, at the rate they started, to accomplish more than five or six miles in the course of twelve hours.
The weather was beautifully fine; the sun ascended nearly to the zenith, and its rays, descending almost perpendicularly, caused a degree of heat which, as Harris pointed out, would have been unendurable upon the open plain, but was here pleasantly tempered by the shelter of the foliage.
Most of the trees were quite strange to them. To an experienced eye they were such as were remarkable more for their character then for their size. Here, on one side, was the bauhinia, or mountain ebony; there, on the other, the molompi or pterocarpus, its trunk exuding large quantities of resin, and of which the strong light wood makes excellent oars or paddles; further on were fustics heavily charged with colouring matter, and guaiacums, twelve feet in diameter, surpassing the ordinary kind in magnitude, yet far inferior in quality.
Dick Sands kept perpetually asking Harris to tell him the names of all these trees and plants.
"Have you never been on the coast of South America before?" replied Harris, without giving the explicit information that was sought.
"Never," said Dick; "never before. Nor do I recollect ever having seen any one who has."
"But surely you have explored the coasts of Columbia or Patagonia," Harris continued.
Dick avowed that he had never had the chance.
"But has Mrs. Weldon never visited these parts? Our countrymen, I know, are great travellers."
"No," answered Mrs. Weldon; "my husband's business called him occasionally to New Zealand, but I have accompanied him nowhere else. With this part of Lower Bolivia we are totally unacquainted."
"Then, madam, I can only assure you that you will see a most remarkable country, in every way a very striking contrast to the regions of Peru, Brazil, and the Argentine republic. Its animal and vegetable products would fill a naturalist with unbounded wonder. May I not declare it a lucky chance that has brought you here?"
"Do not say chance, Mr. Harris, if you please."
"Well, then, madam; providence, if you prefer it," said Harris, with the air of a man incapable of recognizing the distinction.
After finding that there was no one amongst them who was acquainted in any way with the country through which they were travelling, Harris seemed to exhibit an evident pleasure in pointing out and describing by name the various wonders of the forest. Had Cousin Benedict's attainments included a knowledge of botany he would have found himself in a fine field for researches, and might perchance have discovered novelties to which his own name could be appended in the catalogues of science. But he was no botanist; in fact, as a rule, he held all blossoms in aversion, on the ground that they entrapped insects into their corollæ, and poisoned them sometimes with venomous juices. New and rare insects, however, seemed hereabouts to be wanting.
Occasionally the soil became marshy, and they all had to wend their way over a perfect network of tiny rivulets that were affluents of the river from which they had started. Sometimes these rivulets were so wide that they could not be passed without a long search for some spot where they could be forded; their banks were all very damp, and in many places abounded with a kind of reed, which Harris called by its proper name of papyrus.
As soon as the marshy district had been passed, the forest resumed its original aspect, the footway becoming narrow as ever. Harris pointed out some very fine ebony-trees,
[Illustration: Occasionally the soil became marshy.]
larger than the common sort, and yielding a wood darker and more durable than what is ordinarily seen in the market. There were also more mango-trees than might have been expected at this distance from the sea; a beautiful white lichen enveloped their trunks like a fur; but in spite of their luxuriant foliage and delicious fruit, Harris said that there was not a native who would venture to propagate the species, as the superstition of the country is that "whoever plants a mango, dies!"
At noon a halt was made for the purpose of rest and refreshment. During the afternoon they arrived at some gently rising ground, not the first slopes of hills, but an insulated plateau which appeared to unite mountains and plains. Notwithstanding that the trees were far less crowded and more inclined to grow in detached groups, the numbers of herbaceous plants with which the soil was covered rendered progress no less difficult than it was before. The general aspect of the scene was not unlike an East Indian jungle. Less luxuriant indeed than in the lower valley of the river, the vegetation was far more abundant than that of the temperate zones either of the Old or New continents. Indigo grew in great profusion, and, according to Harris's representation, was the most encroaching plant in the whole country; no sooner, he said, was a field left untilled, than it was overrun by this parasite, which sprang up with the rank growth of thistles or nettles.
One tree which might have been expected to be common in this part of the continent seemed entirely wanting. This was the caoutchouc. Of the various trees from which India-rubber is procured, such as the Ficus prinoides, the Castilioa elastica, the Cecropia peltata, the Callophora utilis, the Cameraria latifolia, and especially the Siphonia elastica, all of which abound in the provinces of South America, not a single specimen was to be seen. Dick had promised to show Jack an India-rubber-tree, and the child, who had conjured up visions of squeaking dolls, balls, and other toys growing upon its branches, was loud and constant in his expressions of disappointment.
"Never mind, my little man," said Harris; "have patience, and you shall see hundreds of India-rubber-trees when you get to the hacienda."
"And will they be nice and elastic?" asked Jack, whose ideas upon the subject were of the vaguest order.
"Oh, yes, they will stretch as long as you like," Harris answered, laughing. "But here is something to amuse you," he added, and as he spoke, he gathered a fruit that looked as tempting as a peach.
"You are quite sure that it is safe to give it him?" said Mrs. Weldon anxiously.
"To satisfy you, madam, I will eat one first myself."
The example he set was soon followed by all the rest. The fruit was a mango; that which had been so opportunely discovered was of the sort that ripens in March or April; there is a later kind which ripens in September. With his mouth full of juice, Jack pronounced that it was very nice, but did not seem to be altogether diverted from his sense of disappointment at not coming to an India-rubber-tree. Evidently the little man thought himself rather injured.
"And Dick promised me some humming-birds too!" he murmured.
"Plenty of humming-birds for you, when you get to the farm; lots of them where my brother lives," said Harris.
And to say the truth, there was nothing extravagant in the way the child's anticipations had been raised, for in Bolivia humming-birds are found in great abundance. The Indians, who weave their plumage into all kinds of artistic designs, have bestowed the most poetical epithets upon these gems of the feathered race. They call them "rays of the sun," and "tresses of the day-star;" at one time they will describe them as "king of flowers," at another as "blossoms of heaven kissing blossoms of earth," or as "the jewel that reflects the sunbeam." In fact their imagination seems to have shaped a suitable distinction for almost every one of the 150 known species of this dazzling little beauty.
But however numerous humming-birds might be expected to be in the Bolivian forest, they proved scarce enough at present, and Jack had to content himself with Harris's representations that they did not like solitude, but would be found plentifully at San Felice, where they would be heard all day long humming like a spinning-wheel. Already Jack said he longed to be there, a wish that was so unanimously echoed by all the rest, that they resolved that no stoppage should be allowed beyond what was absolutely indispensable.
After a time the forest began to alter its aspect. The trees were even less crowded, opening now and then into wide glades. The soil, cropping up above its carpet of verdure, exhibited veins of rose granite and syenite, like plates of lapis lazuli; on some of the higher ground, the fleshy tubers of the sarsaparilla plant, growing in a hopeless entanglement, made progress a matter of still greater difficulty than in the narrow tracks of the dense forest.
At sunset the travellers found that they had accomplished about eight miles from their starting-point. They could not prognosticate what hardships might be in store for them on future days, but it was certain that the experiences of the first day had been neither eventful nor very fatiguing. It was now unanimously agreed that they should make a halt for the night, and as little was to be apprehended from the attacks either of man or beast, it was considered unnecessary to form anything like a regular encampment. One man on guard, to be relieved every few hours, was presumed to be sufficient. Admirable shelter was offered by an enormous mango, the spreading foliage of which formed a kind of natural verandah, sweeping the ground so thoroughly that any one who chose could find sleeping-quarters in its very branches.
Simultaneously with the halting of the party there was heard a deafening tumult in the upper boughs. The mango was the roosting place of a colony of grey parrots, a noisy, quarrelsome, and rapacious race, of whose true characteristics the specimens seen in confinement in Europe give no true conception. Their screeching and chattering were such a nuisance that Dick Sands wanted to fire a shot into the middle of them, but Harris seriously dissuaded him, urging that the report of firearms would only serve to reveal their own presence, whilst their greatest safety lay in perfect silence.
Supper was prepared. There was little need of cooking. The meal, as before, consisted of preserved meat and biscuit. Fresh water, which they flavoured with a few drops of rum, was obtained from an adjacent stream which trickled through the grass. By way of dessert they had an abundance of ripe mangoes, and the only drawback to their general enjoyment was the discordant outcry which the parrots kept up, as it were in protest against the invasion of what they held to be their own rightful domain.
It was nearly dark when supper was ended. The evening shade crept slowly upwards to the tops of the trees, which soon stood out in sharp relief against the lighter background of the sky, while the stars, one by one, began to peep. The wind dropped, and ceased to murmur through the foliage; to the general relief, the parrots desisted from their clatter; and as Nature hushed herself to rest, she seemed to be inviting all her children to follow her example.
"Had we not better light a good large fire?" asked Dick.
"By no means," said Harris; "the nights are not cold, and under this wide-spreading mango the ground is not likely to be damp. Besides, as I have told you before, our best security consists in our taking care to attract no attention whatever from without."
Mrs. Weldon interposed,-
"It may be true enough that we have nothing to dread from the Indians, but is it certain that there are no dangerous quadrupeds against which we are bound to be upon our guard?"
Harris answered,-
"I can positively assure you, madam, that there are no animals here but such as would be infinitely more afraid of you than you would be of them."
"Are there any woods without wild beasts?" asked Jack.
"All woods are not alike, my boy," replied Harris;
"this wood is a great park. As the Indians say, 'Es como el Pariso;' it is like Paradise."
Jack persisted,-
"There must be snakes, and lions, and tigers."
"Ask your mamma, my boy," said Harris, "whether she ever heard of lions and tigers in America?"
Mrs. Weldon was endeavouring to put her little boy at his ease on this point, when Cousin Benedict interposed, saying that although there were no lions or tigers, there were plenty of jaguars and panthers in the New World.
"And won't they kill us?" demanded Jack eagerly, his apprehensions once more aroused.
"Kill you?" laughed Harris; "why, your friend Hercules here could strangle them, two at a time, one in each hand!"
"But, please, don't let the panthers come near me!" pleaded Jack, evidently alarmed.
"No, no, Master Jack, they shall not come near you. I will give them a good grip first," and the giant displayed his two rows of huge white teeth.
Dick Sands proposed that it should be the four younger negroes who should be assigned the task of keeping watch during the night, in attendance upon himself; but Actæon insisted so strongly upon the necessity of Dick's having his full share of rest, that the others were soon brought to the same conviction, and Dick was obliged to yield.
Jack valiantly announced his intention of taking one watch, but his sleepy eyelids made it only too plain that he did not know the extent of his own fatigue.
"I am sure there are wolves here," he said.
"Only such wolves as Dingo would swallow at a mouthful," said Harris.
"But I am sure there are wolves," he insisted, repeating the word "wolves" again and again, until he tumbled off to sleep against the side of old Nan. Mrs. Weldon gave her little son a silent kiss; it was her loving "good night."
Cousin Benedict was missing. Some little time before, he had slipped away in search of "cocuyos," or fire-flies, which he had heard were common in South America.
Those singular insects emit a bright bluish light from two spots on the side of the thorax, and their colours are so brilliant that they are used as ornaments for ladies' headdresses. Hoping to secure some specimens for his box, Benedict would have wandered to an unlimited distance; but Hercules, faithful to his undertaking, soon discovered him, and heedless of the naturalist's protestations and vociferations, promptly escorted him back to the general rendezvous.
Hercules himself was the first to keep watch, but with this exception, the whole party, in another hour, were wrapped in peaceful slumber.
[Illustration: Hercules himself was the first to keep watch.]
Most travellers who have passed a night in a South American forest have been roused from their slumbers by amatinée musicalemore fantastic than melodious, performed by monkeys, as their ordinary greeting of the dawn. The yelling, chattering, screeching, howling, all unite to form a chorus almost unearthly in its hideousness.
Amongst the various specimens of the numerous family of the quadrumana ought to be recognized the little marikina; the sagouin, with its parti-coloured face; the grey mora, the skin of which is used by the Indians for covering their gun-locks; the sapajou, with its singular tuft over the forehead, and, most remarkable of all, the guariba (Simia Beelzebul) with its prehensile tail and diabolical countenance.
At the first streak of daylight the senior member, as choragus, will start the key-note in a sonorous barytone, the younger monkeys join in tenor and alto, and the concert begins. But this morning there was no concert at all. There was nothing of the wonted serenade to break the silence of the forest. The shrill notes resulting from the rapid vibration of the hyoid bones of the throat were not to be heard. Indians would have been disappointed and perplexed; they are very fond of the flesh of the guariba when smoked and dried, and they would certainly have missed the chant of the monkey "paternosters;" but Dick Sands and his companions were unfamiliar with any of these things, and accordingly the singular quietude was to them a matter of no surprise.
They all awoke much refreshed by their night's rest, which there had been nothing to disturb. Jack was by no means the latest in opening his eyes, and his first words were addressed to Hercules, asking him whether he had caught a wolf with his teeth. Hercules had to acknowledge that he had tasted nothing all night, and declared himself quite ready for breakfast. The whole party were unanimous in this respect, and after a brief morning prayer, breakfast was expeditiously served by old Nan. The meal was but a repetition of the last evening's supper, but with their appetites sharpened by the fresh forest air, and anxious to fortify themselves for a good day's march, they did not fail to do ample justice to their simple fare. Even Cousin Benedict, for once in his life at least, partook of his food as if it were not utterly a matter of indifference to him; but he grumbled very much at the restraint to which he considered himself subjected; he could not see the good of coming to such a country as this, if he were to be obliged to walk about with his hands in his pockets; and he protested that if Hercules did not leave him alone and permit him to catch fire-flies, there would be a bone to pick between them. Hercules did not look very much alarmed at the threat. Mrs. Weldon, however, took him aside, and telling him that she did not wish to deprive the enthusiast entirely of his favourite occupation, instructed him to allow her cousin as much liberty as possible, provided he did not lose sight of him.
The morning meal was over, and it was only seven o'clock when the travellers were once more on their way towards the east, preserving the same marching-order as on the day before.
The path was still through luxuriant forest. The vegetable kingdom reigned supreme. As the plateau was immediately adjacent to tropical latitudes, the sun's rays during the summer months descended perpendicularly upon the virgin soil, and the vast amount of heat thus obtained combined with the abundant moisture retained in the subsoil, caused vegetation to assume a character which was truly magnificent.
Dick Sands could not overcome a certain sense of mystification. Here they were, as Harris told them, in the region of the pampas, a word which he knew in the Quichna dialect signifies "a plain;" but he had always read that these plains were characterized by a deficiency alike of water, of trees, and rocks; he had always understood that during the rainy season, thistles spring up in great abundance and grow until they form thickets that are well-nigh impenetrable; he had imagined that the few dwarf trees and prickly shrubs that exist during the summer only stamp the general scene with an aspect of yet more thorough bareness and desolation. But how different was everything to all this! The forest never ceased to stretch away interminably to the horizon. There were no tokens of the rough nakedness that he had expected. Dick seemed to be driven to the conclusion that Harris was right in describing this plateau of Atacama, which he had for his part most firmly believed to be a vast desert between the Andes and the Pacific, as a region that was quite exceptional in its natural features.
It was not in Dick's character to keep his reflections to himself. In the course of the morning he expressed his extreme surprise at finding the pampas answer so little to his preconceived ideas.
"Have I not understood correctly," he said, "that the pampas is similar to the North American savannahs, only less marshy?"
Harris replied that such was indeed a correct description of the pampas of Rio Colorado, and the Ilanos of Venezuela and the Orinoco.
"But," he continued, "I own I am as much astonished as yourself at the character of this region; I have never crossed the plateau before, and I must confess it is altogether different to what you find beyond the Andes towards the Atlantic."
"You don't mean that we are going to cross the Andes?" said Dick, in sudden alarm.
Harris smiled.
"No, no, indeed. With our limited means of transport such an undertaking would have been rash in the extreme. We had better have kept to the coast for ever rather than incur such a risk. Our destination, San Felice, is on this side of the range, and in order to reach it, we shall not have to leave the plateau, of which the greatest elevation is but little over 1500 feet."
"And you say," Dick persisted, "that you have really no fear of losing your way in a forest such as this, a forest into which you have never set foot before?"
"No fear whatever," Harris answered; "so accustomed am I to travelling of this kind, that I can steer my way by a thousand signs revealing themselves in the growth of the trees, and in the composition of the soil, which would never present themselves to your notice. I assure you that I anticipate no difficulties."
This conversation was not heard by any of the rest of the party. Harris seemed to speak as frankly as he did fearlessly, and Dick felt that there might be, after all, no just grounds for any of his own misgivings.
Five days passed by, and the 12th of April arrived without any special incident. Nine miles had been the average distance accomplished in a day; regular periods of rest had been taken, and, except that Jack's spirits had somewhat flagged, the fatigue did not seem to have interfered with the general good health of the travellers.
First disappointed of his India-rubber-tree, and then of his humming birds, Jack had inquired about the beautiful parrots which he had been led to expect he should see in this wonderful forest. Where were the bright green macaws? where were the gaudy aras with their bare white cheeks and pointed tails, which seem never to light upon the ground? and where, too, were all the brilliant parroquets, with their feathered faces, and indeed the whole variety of those forest chatterers of which the Indians affirm that they speak the language of nations long extinct?
It is true that there was no lack of the common grey parrots with crimson tails, but these were no novelty; Jack
[Illustration: "Don't Fire!"]
had seen plenty of them before, for owing to their reputation of being the most clever in mimickry of the Psittacidæ, they have been domesticated everywhere in both the Old and New worlds.
But Jack's dissatisfaction was nothing compared to Cousin Benedict's. In spite of being allowed to wander away from the rank, he had failed to discover a single insect which was worth the pursuit; not even a fire-fly danced at night; nature seemed to be mocking him, and his ill-humour increased accordingly.
In this way the journey was continued for four days longer, and on the 16th it was estimated that they must have travelled between eighty and ninety miles north-eastwards from the coast. Harris positively asserted that they could not be much more than twenty miles from San Felice, and that by pushing forwards they might expect in eight-and-forty hours to find themselves lodged in comfortable quarters.
But although they had thus succeeded in traversing this vast table-land, they had not seen one human inhabitant. Dick was more than ever perplexed, and it was a subject of bitter regret to him that they had not stranded upon some more frequented part of the shore, near some village or plantation where Mrs. Weldon might long since have found a suitable refuge.
Deserted, however, as the country apparently was by man, it had latterly shown itself much more abundantly tenanted by animals. Many a time a long, plaintive cry was heard, which Harris attributed to the tardigrades or sloths often found in wooded districts, and known by the name of "ais;" and in the middle of the dinner-halt on this day, a loud hissing suddenly broke upon the air which made Mrs. Weldon start to her feet in alarm.
"A serpent!" cried Dick, catching up his loaded gun.
The negroes, following Dick's example, were in a moment on the alert.
"Don't fire!" cried Harris.
There was indeed nothing improbable in the supposition that a "sucuru," a species of boa, sometimes measuring forty feet in length, had just moved itself in the long grass at their side, but Harris affirmed that the "sucuru" never hisses, and declared that the noise had really come from animals of an entirely inoffensive character.
"What animals?" asked Dick, always eager for information, which it must be granted Harris seemed always equally anxious to give.
"Antelopes," replied Harris; "but, hush! not a sound, or you will frighten them away."
"Antelopes!" cried Dick; "I must see them; I must get close to them."
"More easily said than done," answered Harris, shaking his head; but Dick was not to be diverted from his purpose, and, gun in hand, crept into the grass. He had not advanced many yards before a herd of about a dozen gazelles, graceful in body, with short, pointed horns, dashed past him like a glowing cloud, and disappeared in the underwood without giving him time to take a shot.
"I told you beforehand what you would have to expect," said Harris, as Dick, with a considerable sense of disappointment, returned to the party.
Impossible, however, as it had been fairly to scrutinize the antelopes, such was hardly the case with another herd of animals, the identification of which led to a somewhat singular discussion between Harris and the rest.
About four o'clock on the afternoon of the same day, the travellers were halting for a few moments near an opening in the forest, when three or four large animals emerged from a thicket about a hundred paces ahead, and scampered off at full speed. In spite of what Harris had urged, Dick put his gun to his shoulder, and was on the very point of firing, when Harris knocked the rifle quickly aside.
"They were giraffes!" shouted Dick.
The announcement awakened the curiosity of Jack, who quickly scrambled to his feet upon the saddle on which he was lounging.
"My dear Dick," said Mrs. Weldon, "there are no giraffes in America!"
[Illustration: A herd of gazelles dashed past him like a glowing cloud.]
"Certainly not," cried Harris; "they were not giraffes, they were ostriches which you saw!"
"Ostriches with four legs! that will never do! what do you say. Mrs. Weldon?"
Mrs. Weldon replied that she had certainly taken the animals for quadrupeds, and all the negroes were under the same impression.
Laughing heartily, Harris said it was far from an uncommon thing for an inexperienced eye to mistake a large ostrich for a small giraffe; the shape of both was so similar, that it often quite escaped observation as to whether the long necks terminated in a beak or a muzzle; besides, what need of discussion could there be when the fact was established that giraffes are unknown in the New World? The reasoning was plausible enough, and Mrs Weldon and the negroes were soon convinced. But Dick was far from satisfied.
"I did not know that there was an American ostrich!" he again objected.
"Oh, yes," replied Harris promptly, "there is a species called the nandu, which is very well known here; we shall probably see some more of them."
The statement was correct; the nandu is common in the plains of South America, and is distinguished from the African ostrich by having three toes, all furnished with claws. It is a fine bird, sometimes exceeding six feet in height; it has a short beak, and its wings are furnished with blue-grey plumes. Harris appeared well acquainted with the bird, and proceeded to give a very precise account of its habits. In concluding his remarks, he again pressed upon Dick his most urgent request that he should abstain from firing upon any animal whatever. It was of the utmost consequence.
Dick made no reply. He was silent and thoughtful. Grave doubts had arisen in his mind, and he could neither explain nor dispel them.
When the march was resumed on the following day, Harris asserted his conviction that another four-and-twenty hours would bring them to the hacienda.
"And there, madam," he said, addressing Mrs. Weldon, "we can offer you every essential comfort, though you may not find the luxuries of your own home in San Francisco."
Mrs. Weldon repeated her expression of gratitude for the proffered hospitality, owning that she should now be exceedingly glad to reach the farm, as she was anxious about her little son, who appeared to be threatened with the symptoms of incipient fever.
Harris could not deny that although the climate was usually very healthy, it nevertheless did occasionally produce a kind of intermittent fever during March and April.
"But nature has provided the proper remedy," said Dick; and perceiving that Harris did not comprehend his meaning, he continued, "Are we not in the region of the quinquinas, the bark of which is notoriously the medicine with which attacks of fever are usually treated? for my part, I am amazed that we have not seen numbers of them already."
"Ah! yes, yes; I know what you mean," answered Harris, after a moment's hesitation; "they are trees, however, not always easy to find; they rarely grow in groups, and in spite of their large leaves and fragrant red blossom, the Indians themselves often have a difficulty in recognizing them; the feature that distinguishes them most is their evergreen foliage"
At Mrs. Weldon's request, Harris promised to point out the tree if he should see one, but added that when she reached the hacienda, she would be able to obtain some sulphate of quinine, which was much more efficacious than the unprepared bark.
[Footnote: This bark was formerly, reduced to powder, known as "Pulvis Jesuiticus," because in the year 1649 the Jesuits in Rome imported a large quantity of it from their missionaries in South America.]
The day passed without further incident. No rain had fallen at present, though the warm mist that rose from the soil betokened an approaching change of weather; the rainy season was certainly not far distant, but to travellers
[Illustration: A halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty trees. ]
who indulged the expectation of being in a few hours in a place of shelter, this was not a matter of great concern.
Evening came, and a halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty trees. If Harris had not miscalculated, they could hardly be more than about six miles from their destination; so confirmed, however, was Dick Sands in his strange suspicions, that nothing could induce him to relax any of the usual precautions, and he particularly insisted upon the negroes, turn by turn, keeping up the accustomed watch.
Worn out by fatigue, the little party were glad to lie down, but they had scarcely dropped off to sleep when they were aroused by a sharp cry.
"Who's that? who's there? what's the matter?" exclaimed Dick, the first to rise to his feet.
"It is I," answered Benedict's voice; "I am bitten. Something has bitten me."
"A snake!" exclaimed Mrs. Weldon in alarm.
"No, no, cousin, better than that! it was not a snake; I believe it was an orthoptera; I have it all right," he shouted triumphantly.
"Then kill it quickly, sir; and let us go to sleep again in peace," said Harris.
"Kill it! not for the world! I must have a light, and look at it!"
Dick Sands indulged him, for reasons of his own, in getting a light. The entomologist carefully opened his hand and displayed an insect somewhat smaller than a bee, of a dull colour, streaked with yellow on the under portion of the body. He looked radiant with delight.
"A diptera!" he exclaimed, half beside himself with joy, "a most famous diptera!"
"Is it venomous?" asked Mrs. Weldon.
"Not at all to men; it only hurts elephants and buffaloes."
"But tell us its name! what is it?" cried Dick impetuously.
The naturalist began to speak in a slow, oracular tone.
"This insect is here a prodigy; it is an insect totally unknown in this country,-in America."
"Tell us its name!" roared Dick.
"It is a tzetzy, sir, a true tzetzy."
Dick's heart sank like a stone. He was speechless. He did not, dared not, ask more. Only too well he knew where the tzetzy could alone be found. He did not close his eyes again that night.
The morning of the 18th dawned, the day on which, according to Harris's prediction, the travellers were to be safely housed at San Felice. Mrs. Weldon was really much relieved at the prospect, for she was aware that her strength must prove inadequate to the strain of a more protracted journey. The condition of her little boy, who was alternately flushed with fever, and pale with exhaustion, had begun to cause her great anxiety, and unwilling to resign the care of the child even to Nan his faithful nurse, she insisted upon carrying him in her own arms. Twelve days and nights, passed in the open air, had done much to try her powers of endurance, and the charge of a sick child in addition would soon break down her strength entirely.
Dick Sands, Nan, and the negroes had all borne the march very fairly. Their stock of provisions, though of course considerably diminished, was still far from small. As for Harris, he had shown himself pre-eminently adapted for forest-life, and capable of bearing any amount of fatigue. Yet, strange to say, as he approached the end of the journey, his manner underwent a remarkable change; instead of conversing in his ordinary frank and easy way, he became silent and preoccupied, as if engrossed in his own thoughts. Perhaps he had an instinctive consciousness that "his young friend," as he was in the habit of addressing Dick, was entertaining hard suspicions about him.
The march was resumed. The trees once again ceased to be crowded in impenetrable masses, but stood in clusters at considerable distances apart. Now, Dick tried to argue with himself, they must be coming to the true pampas, or the man must be designedly misleading them; and yet what motive could he have?
Although during the earlier part of the day there occurred nothing that could be said absolutely to justify Dick's increasing uneasiness, two circumstances transpired which did not escape his observation, and which, he felt, might be significant. The first of these was a sudden change in Dingo's behaviour. The dog, throughout the march, had uniformly run along with his nose upon the ground, smelling the grass and shrubs, and occasionally uttering a sad low whine; but to-day he seemed all agitation; he scampered about with bristling coat, with his head erect, and ever and again burst into one of those furious fits of barking, with which he had formerly been accustomed to greet Negoro's appearance upon the deck of the "Pilgrim."
The idea that flitted across Dick's mind was shared by Tom.
"Look, Mr. Dick, look at Dingo; he is at his old ways again," said he; "it is just as if Negoro...."
"Hush!" said Dick to the old man, who continued in a lower voice,-
"It is just as if Negoro had followed us; do you think it is likely?"
"It might perhaps be to his advantage to follow us, if he doesn't know the country; but if he does know the country, why then...."
Dick did not finish his sentence, but whistled to Dingo. The dog reluctantly obeyed the call.
As soon as the dog was at his side, Dick patted him, repeating,-
"Good dog! good Dingo! where's Negoro?"
The sound of Negoro's name had its usual effect; it seemed to irritate the animal exceedingly, and he barked furiously, and apparently wanted to dash into the thicket.
Harris had been an interested spectator of the scene, and now approached with a peculiar expression on his countenance, and inquired what they were saying to Dingo.
"Oh, nothing much," replied Tom; "we were only asking him for news of a lost acquaintance."
"Ah, I suppose you mean that Portuguese cook of yours."
"Yes," answered Tom; "we fancied from Dingo's behaviour, that Negoro must be somewhere close at hand."
"Why don't you send and search the underwood? perhaps the poor wretch is in distress."
"No need of that, Mr. Harris; Negoro, I have no doubt, is quite capable of taking care of himself."
"Well, just as you please, my young friend," said Harris, with an air of indifference.
Dick turned away; he continued his endeavours to pacify Dingo, and the conversation dropped.
The other thing that had arrested Dick's attention was the behaviour of the horse. If they had been as near the hacienda as Harris described, would not the animal have pricked up its ears, sniffed the air, and with dilated nostril, exhibited some sign of satisfaction, as being upon familiar ground?
But nothing of the kind was to be observed; the horse plodded along as unconcernedly as if a stable were as far away as ever.
Even Mrs. Weldon was not so engrossed with her child, but what she was fain to express her wonder at the deserted aspect of the country. No trace of a farm-labourer was anywhere to be seen! She cast her eye at Harris, who was in his usual place in front, and observing how he was looking first to the left, and then to the right, with the air of a man who was uncertain of his path, she asked herself whether it was possible their guide might have lost his way. She dared not entertain the idea, and averted her eyes, that she might not be harassed by his movements.
After crossing an open plain about a mile in width, the travellers once again entered the forest, which resumed something of the same denseness that had characterized it farther to the west. In the course of the afternoon, they came to a spot which was marked very distinctly by the vestiges of some enormous animals, which must have passed quite recently. As Dick looked carefully about him, he observed that the branches were all torn off or broken to a considerable height, and that the foot-tracks in the trampled grass were much too large to be those either of jaguars or panthers. Even if it were possible that the prints on the ground had been made by ais or other taidigrades, this would fail to account in the least for the trees being broken to such a height. Elephants alone were capable of working such destruction in the underwood, but elephants were unknown in America. Dick was puzzled, but controlled himself so that he would not apply to Harris for any enlightenment; his intuition made him aware that a man who had once tried to make him believe that giraffes were ostriches, would not hesitate a second time to impose upon his credulity.
More than ever was Dick becoming convinced that Harris was a traitor, and he was secretly prompted to tax him with his treachery. Still he was obliged to own that he could not assign any motive for the man acting in such a manner with the survivors of the "Pilgrim," and consequently hesitated before he actually condemned him for conduct so base and heartless. What could be done? he repeatedly asked himself. On board ship the boy captain might perchance have been able to devise some plan for the safety of those so strangely committed to his charge, but here on an unknown shore, he could only suffer from the burden of this responsibility the more, because he was so utterly powerless to act.
He made up his mind on one point. He determined not to alarm the poor anxious mother a moment before he was actually compelled. It was his carrying out this determination that explained why on subsequently arriving at a considerable stream, where he saw some huge heads, swollen muzzles, long tusks and unwieldy bodies rising from amidst the rank wet grass, he uttered no word and gave no gesture of surprise; but only too well he knew, at a glance, that he must be looking at a herd of hippopotamuses.
[Illustration: "Look here! here are hands, men's hands."]
It was a weary march that day; a general feeling of depression spread involuntarily from one to another; hardly conscious to herself of her weariness, Mrs. Weldon was exhibiting manifest symptoms of lassitude; and it was only Dick's moral energy and sense of duty that kept him from succumbing to the prevailing dejection.
About four o'clock, Tom noticed something lying in the grass, and stooping down he picked up a kind of knife; it was of peculiar shape, being very wide and flat in the blade, while its handle, which was of ivory, was ornamented with a good deal of clumsy carving. He carried it at once to Dick, who, when he had scrutinized it, held it up to Harris, with the remark,-
"There must be natives not far off."
"Quite right, my young friend; the hacienda must be a very few miles away,-but yet, but yet...."
He hesitated.
"You don't mean that you are not sure of your way," said Dick sharply."
"Not exactly that," replied Harris; "yet in taking this short cut across the forest, I am inclined to think I am a mile or so out of the way. Perhaps I had better walk on a little way, and look about me."
"No; you do not leave us here," cried Dick firmly.
"Not against your will; but remember, I do not undertake to guide you in the dark."
"We must spare you the necessity for that. I can answer for it that Mrs. Weldon will raise no objection to spending another night in the open air. We can start off to-morrow morning as early as we like, and if the distance be only what you represent, a few hours will easily accomplish it."
"As you please," answered Harris with cold civility.
Just then, Dingo again burst out into a vehement fit of barking, and it required no small amount of coaxing on Dick's part to make him cease from his noise.
It was decided that the halt should be made at once. Mrs. Weldon, as it had been anticipated, urged nothing against it, being preoccupied by her immediate attentions to Jack, who was lying in her arms, suffering from a decided attack of fever. The shelter of a large thicket had just been selected by Dick as a suitable resting-place for the night, when Tom, who was assisting in the necessary preparations, suddenly gave a cry of horror.
"What is it, Tom?" asked Dick very calmly.
"Look! look at these trees! they are spattered with blood! and look here! here are hands, men's hands, cut off and lying on the ground!"
"What?" cried Dick, and in an instant was at his side.
His presence of mind did not fail him; he whispered,-
"Hush! Tom! hush! not a word!"
But it was with a shudder that ran through his veins that he witnessed for himself the mutilated fragments of several human bodies, and saw, lying beside them, some broken forks, and some bits of iron chain.
The sight of the gory remains made Dingo bark ferociously, and Dick, who was most anxious that Mrs. Weldon's attention should not be called to the discovery, had the greatest difficulty in driving him back; but fortunately the lady's mind was so engrossed with her patient, that she did not observe the commotion. Harris stood aloof; there was no one to notice the change that passed over his countenance, but the expression was almost diabolical in its malignity.
Poor old Tom himself seemed perfectly spell-bound. With his hands clenched, his eyes dilated, and his breast heaving with emotion, he kept repeating without anything like coherence, the words,-
"Forks! chains! forks! ... long ago ... remember ... too well ... chains!"
"For Mrs. Weldon's sake, Tom, hold your tongue!" Dick implored him.
Tom, however, was full with some remembrance of the past; he continued to repeat,-
"Long ago ... forks ... chains!" until Dick led him out of hearing.
A fresh halting-place was chosen a short distance further on, and supper was prepared. But the meal was left almost untasted; not so much that hunger had been overcome by
[Illustration: The man was gone, and his horse with him.]
fatigue, but because the indefinable feeling of uneasiness, that had taken possession of them all, had entirely destroyed all appetite.
Gradually the night became very dark. The sky was covered with heavy storm-clouds, and on the western horizon flashes of summer lightning now and then glimmered through the trees. The air was perfectly still; not a leaf stirred, and the atmosphere seemed so charged with electricity as to be incapable of transmitting sound of any kind.
Dick, himself, with Austin and Bat in attendance, remained on guard, all of them eagerly straining both eye and ear to catch any light or sound that might disturb the silence and obscurity. Old Tom, with his head sunk upon his breast, sat motionless, as in a trance; he was gloomily revolving the awakened memories of the past. Mrs. Weldon was engaged with her sick child. Scarcely one of the party was really asleep, except indeed it might be Cousin Benedict, whose reasoning faculties were not of an order to carry him forwards into any future contingencies.
Midnight was still an hour in advance, when the dull air seemed filled with a deep and prolonged roar, mingled with a peculiar kind of vibration.
Tom started to his feet. A fresh recollection of his early days had struck him.
"A lion! a lion!" he shouted.
In vain Dick tried to repress him; but he repeated,-
"A lion! a lion!"
Dick Sands seized his cutlass, and, unable any longer to control his wrath, he rushed to the spot where he had left Harris lying.
The man was gone, and his horse with him!
All the suspicions that had been so long pent up within Dick's mind now shaped themselves into actual reality. A flood of light had broken in upon him. Now he was convinced, only too certainly, that it was not the coast of America at all upon which the schooner had been cast ashore! it was not Easter Island that had been sighted far away in the west! the compass had completely deceived him; he was satisfied now that the strong currents had carried them quite round Cape Horn, and that they had really entered the Atlantic. No wonder that quinquinas, caoutchouc, and other South American products, had failed to be seen. This was neither the Bolivian pampas nor the plateau of Atacama. They were giraffes, not ostriches, that had vanished down the glade; they were elephants that had trodden down the underwood; they were hippopotamuses that were lurking by the river; it was indeed the dreaded tzetsy that Cousin Benedict had so triumphantly discovered; and, last of all, it was a lion's roar that had disturbed the silence of the forest. That chain, that knife, those forks, were unquestionably the instruments of slave-dealers; and what could those mutilated hands be, except the relics of their ill-fated victims?
Harris and Negoro must be in a conspiracy!
It was with terrible anguish that Dick gnashed his teeth and muttered,-
"Yes, it is too true; we are in Africa! in equatorial Africa! in the land of slavery! in the very haunt of slave-drivers!"
[Illustration: WEST COAST OF CENTRAL AFRICA.]
The "slave-trade" is an expression that ought never to have found its way into any human language. After being long practised at a large profit by such European nations as had possessions beyond the seas, this abominable traffic has now for many years been ostensibly forbidden; yet even in the enlightenment of this nineteenth century, it is still largely carried on, especially in Central Africa, inasmuch as there are several states, professedly Christian, whose signatures have never been affixed to the deed of abolition.
Incredible as it should seem, this barter of human beings still exists, and for the due comprehension of the second part of Dick Sands' story it must be borne in mind, that for the purpose of supplying certain colonies with slaves, there continue to be prosecuted such barbarous "man-hunts" as threaten almost to lay waste an entire continent with blood, fire, and pillage.
The nefarious traffic as far as regards negroes does not appear to have arisen until the fifteenth century. The following are said to be the circumstances under which it had its origin. After being banished from Spain, the Mussulmans crossed the straits of Gibraltar and took refuge upon the shores of Africa, but the Portuguese who then occupied that portion of the coast persecuted the fugitives with the utmost severity, and having captured them in large numbers, sent them as prisoners into Portugal. They were thus the first nucleus of any African slaves that entered Western Europe since the commencement of the Christian era. The majority, however, of these Mussulmans were members of wealthy families, who were prepared to pay almost any amount of money for their release; but no ransom was exorbitant enough to tempt the Portuguese to surrender them; more precious than gold were the strong arms that should work the resources of their young and rising colonies. Thus baulked in their purpose of effecting a direct ransom of their captured relatives, the Mussulman families next submitted a proposition for exchanging them for a larger number of African negroes, whom it would be quite easy to procure. The Portuguese, to whom the proposal was in every way advantageous, eagerly accepted the offer; and in this way the slave-trade was originated in Europe.
By the end of the sixteenth century this odious traffic had become permanently established; in principle it contained nothing repugnant to the semi-barbarous thought and customs then existing; all the great states recognized it as the most effectual means of colonizing the islands of the New World, especially as slaves of negro blood, well acclimatized to tropical heat, were able to survive where white men must have perished by thousands. The transport of slaves to the American colonies was consequently regularly effected by vessels specially built for that purpose, and large dépôts for this branch of commerce were established at various points of the African coast. The "goods" cost comparatively little in production, and the profits were enormous.
Yet, after all, however indispensable it might be to complete the foundation of the trans-atlantic colonies, there was nothing to justify this shameful barter of human flesh and blood, and the voice of philanthropy began to be heard in protestation, calling upon all European governments, in the name of mercy and common humanity, to decree the abolition of the trade at once.
In 1751, the Quakers put themselves at the head of the abolitionist movement in North America, that very land where, a hundred years later, the war of secession burst forth, in which the question of slavery bore the most conspicuous part. Several of the Northern States, Virginia, Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Pennsylvania prohibited the trade, liberating the slaves, in spite of the cost, who had been imported into their territories.
The campaign, thus commenced, was not limited to a few provinces of the New World; on this side of the Atlantic, too, the partisans of slavery were subject to a vigourous attack. England and France led the van, and energetically beat up recruits to serve the righteous cause. "Let us lose our colonies rather than sacrifice our principles," was the magnanimous watchword that resounded throughout Europe, and notwithstanding the vast political and commercial interests involved in the question, it did not go forth in vain. A living impulse had been communicated to the liberation-movement. In 1807, England formally prohibited the slave-trade in her colonies; France following her example in 1814. The two great nations then entered upon a treaty on the subject, which was confirmed by Napoleon during the Hundred Days.
Hitherto, however, the declaration was purely theoretical. Slave-ships continued to ply their illicit trade, discharging their living cargo at many a colonial port. It was evident that more resolute and practical measures must be taken to impress the enormity. Accordingly the United States in 1820, and Great Britain in 1824, declared the slave-trade to be an act of piracy and its perpetrators to be punishable with death. France soon gave in her adherence to the new treaty, but the Southern States of America, and the Spanish and Portuguese, not having signed the act of abolition, continued the importation of slaves at a great profit, and this in defiance of the recognized reciprocal right of visitation to verify the flags of suspected ships.
But although the slave-trade by these measures was in a considerable measure reduced, it continued to exist; new slaves were not allowed, but the old ones did not recover their liberty. England was now the first to set a noble example. On the 14th of May, 1833, an Act of Parliament, by a munificent vote of millions of pounds, emancipated all the negroes in the British Colonies, and in August, 1838, 670,000 slaves were declared free men. Ten years later, in 1848, the French Republic liberated the slaves in her colonies to the number of 260,000, and in 1859 the war which broke out between the Federals and Confederates in the United States finished the work of emancipation by extending it to the whole of North America.
Thus, three great powers have accomplished their task of humanity, and at the present time the slave-trade is carried on only for the advantage of the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, or to supply the requirements of the Turkish or Arab populations of the East. Brazil, although she has not emancipated her former slaves, does not receive any new, and all negro children are pronounced free-born.
In contrast, however, to all this, it is not to be concealed that, in the interior of Africa, as the result of wars between chieftains waged for the sole object of making captives, entire tribes are often reduced to slavery, and are carried off in caravans in two opposite directions, some westwards to the Portuguese colony of Angola, others eastwards to Mozambique. Of these miserable creatures, of whom a very small proportion ever reach their destination, some are despatched to Cuba or Madagascar, others to the Arab or Turkish provinces of Asia, to Mecca or Muscat. The French and English cruisers have practically very little power to control the iniquitous proceedings, because the extent of coast to be watched is so large that a strict and adequate surveillance cannot be maintained. The extent of the odious export is very considerable; no less than 24,000 slaves annually reach the coast, a number that hardly represents a tenth part of those who are massacred or otherwise perish by a deplorable end. After the frightful butcheries, the fields lie devastated, the smouldering villages are void of inhabitants, the rivers reek with bleeding corpses, and wild beasts take undisputed possession of the soil. Livingstone, upon returning to a district, immediately after one of these ruthless raids, said that he could never have recognized it for the same that he had visited only a few months previously; and all other travellers, Grant, Speke, Burton, Cameron, Stanley, describe the wooded plateau of Central Africa as the principal theatre of the barbarous warfare between chief and chief. In the region of the great lakes, throughout the vast district which feeds the market of Zanzibar, in Bornu and Fezzan, further south on the banks of the Nyassa and Zambesi, further west in the districts of the Upper Zaire, just traversed by the intrepid Stanley, everywhere there is the recurrence of the same scenes of ruin, slaughter, and devastation. Ever and again the question seems to be forced upon the mind whether slavery is not to end in the entire annihilation of the negro race, so that, like the Australian tribes of South Holland, it will become extinct. Who can doubt that the day must dawn which will herald the closing of the markets in the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, a day when civilized nations shall no longer tolerate the perpetration of this barbarous wrong?