describes “black ivory” at sea.
having started for the coast with a large gang of slaves a short time before marizano, as we have already said, and having left the englishmen to the care of the half-caste, chiefly because he did not desire their company, although he had no objection to the ransom, yoosoof proceeded over the same track which we have already described in part, leaving a bloody trail behind him.
it is a fearful track, of about 500 miles in length, that which lies between the head of lake nyassa and the sea-coast at kilwa. we have no intention of dragging the reader over it to witness the cruelties and murders that were perpetrated by the slavers, or the agonies endured by the slaves. livingstone speaks of it as a land of death, of desolation, and dead men’s bones. and no wonder, for it is one of the main arteries through which the blood of africa flows, like the water of natural rivers, to the sea. the slave-gangs are perpetually passing eastward through it—perpetually dropping four-fifths of their numbers on it as they go. dr livingstone estimates that, in some cases, not more than one-tenth of the slaves captured reach the sea-coast alive. it is therefore rather under than over-stating the case to say that out of every hundred starting from the interior, eighty perish on the road.
yoosoof left with several thousands of strong and healthy men, women, and children—most of them being children—he arrived at kilwa with only eight hundred. the rest had sunk by the way, either from exhaustion or cruel treatment, or both. the loss was great; but as regards the trader it could not be called severe, because the whole gang of slaves cost him little—some of them even nothing!—and the remaining eight hundred would fetch a good price. they were miserably thin, indeed, and exhibited on their poor, worn, and travel-stained bodies the evidence of many a cruel castigation; but yoosoof knew that a little rest and good feeding at kilwa would restore them to some degree of marketable value, and at zanzibar he was pretty sure of obtaining, in round numbers, about 10 pounds a head for them, while in the arabian and persian ports he could obtain much more, if he chose to pass beyond the treaty-protected water at lamoo, and run the risk of being captured by british cruisers. it is “piracy” to carry slaves north of lamoo. south of that point for hundreds of miles, robbery, rapine, murder, cruelty, such as devils could not excel if they were to try, is a “domestic institution” with which britons are pledged not to interfere!
since the above was written sir bartle frere has returned from his mission, and we are told that a treaty has been signed by the sultan of zanzibar putting an end to this domestic slavery. we have not yet seen the terms of this treaty, and must go to press before it appears. we have reason to rejoice and be thankful, however, that such an advantage has been gained. but let not the reader imagine that this settles the question of east african slavery. portugal still holds to the “domestic institution” in her colonies, and has decreed that it shall not expire till the year 1878. decreed, in fact, that the horrors which we have attempted to depict shall continue for five years longer! and let it be noted, that the export slave-trade cannot be stopped as long as domestic slavery is permitted. besides this, there is a continual drain of human beings from africa through egypt. sir samuel baker’s mission is a blow aimed at that; but nothing, that we know of, is being done in regard to portuguese wickedness. if the people of this country could only realise the frightful state of things that exists in the african portuguese territory, and knew how many thousand bodies shall be racked with torture, and souls be launched into eternity during these five years, they would indignantly insist that portugal should be compelled to stop it at once. if it is righteous to constrain the sultan of zanzibar, is it not equally so to compel the king of portugal?
the arch robber and murderer, yoosoof—smooth and oily of face, tongue, and manner though he was—possessed a bold spirit and a grasping heart. the domestic institution did not suit him. rather than sneak along his villainous course under its protecting “pass,” he resolved to bid defiance to laws, treaties, and men-of-war to boot—as many hundreds of his compeers have done and do—and make a bold dash to the north with his eight hundred specimens of black ivory.
accordingly, full of his purpose, one afternoon he sauntered up to the barracoons in which his “cattle” were being rested and fed-up.
moosa, his chief driver, was busy among them with the lash, for, like other cattle, they had a tendency to rebel, at least a few of them had; the most of them were by that time reduced to the callous condition which had struck harold and disco so much on the occasion of their visits to the slave-market of zanzibar.
moosa was engaged, when yoosoof entered, in whipping most unmercifully a small boy whose piercing shrieks had no influence whatever on his tormentor. close beside them a large strong-boned man lay stretched on the ground. he had just been felled with a heavy stick by moosa for interfering. he had raised himself on one elbow, while with his right hand he wiped away the blood that oozed from the wound in his head, and appeared to struggle to recover himself from the stunning blow.
“what has he been doing?” asked yoosoof carelessly, in portuguese.
“oh, the old story, rebelling,” said moosa, savagely hurling the boy into the midst of a group of cowering children, amongst whom he instantly shrank as much as possible out of sight. “that brute,” pointing to the prostrate man, “was a chief, it appears, in his own country, and has not yet got all the spirit lashed out of him. but it can’t last much longer; either the spirit or the life must go. he has carried that little whelp the last part of the way on his back, and now objects to part with him,—got fond of him, i fancy. if you had taken my advice you would have cast them both to the hyenas long ago.”
“you are a bad judge of human flesh, moosa,” said yoosoof, quietly; “more than once you have allowed your passion to rob me of a valuable piece of goods. this man will fetch a good price in persia, and so will his son. i know that the child is his son, though the fool thinks no one knows that but himself, and rather prides himself on the clever way in which he has continued to keep his whelp beside him on the journey down. bah! what can one expect from such cattle? don’t separate them, moosa. they will thrive better together. if we only get them to market in good condition, then we can sell them in separate lots without risking loss of value from pining.”
in a somewhat sulky tone, for he was not pleased to be found fault with by his chief, the slave-driver ordered out the boy, who was little more than five years old, though the careworn expression of his thin face seemed to indicate a much more advanced age.
trembling with alarm, for he expected a repetition of the punishment, yet not daring to disobey, the child came slowly out from the midst of his hapless companions, and advanced. the man who had partly recovered rose to a sitting position, and regarded moosa and the arab with a look of hatred so intense that it is quite certain he would have sprung at them, if the heavy slave-stick had not rendered such an act impossible.
“go, you little whelp,” said moosa, pointing to the fallen chief, and at the same time giving the child a cut with the whip.
with a cry of mingled pain and delight poor obo, for it was he, rushed into his father’s open arms, and laid his sobbing head on his breast. he could not nestle into his neck as, in the days of old, he had been wont to do,—the rough goree effectually prevented that.
kambira bent his head over the child and remained perfectly still. he did not dare to move, lest any action, however inoffensive, might induce moosa to change his mind and separate them again.
poor kambira! how different from the hearty, bold, kindly chief to whom we introduced the reader in his own wilderness home! his colossal frame was now gaunt in the extreme, and so thin that every rib stood out as though it would burst the skin, and every joint seemed hideously large, while from head to foot his skin was crossed and recrossed with terrible weals, and scarred with open sores, telling of the horrible cruelties to which he had been subjected in the vain attempt to tame his untameable spirit. there can be no question that, if he had been left to the tender mercies of such portuguese half-caste scoundrels as moosa or marizano, he would have been brained with an axe or whipped to death long ago. but yoosoof was more cool and calculating in his cruelty; he had more respect for his pocket than for the gratification of his angry feelings. therefore kambira had reached the coast alive.
little had the simple chief imagined what awaited him on that coast, and on his way to it, when, in the fulness of his heart, he had stated to harold seadrift his determination to proceed thither in search of azinté. experience had now crushed hope, and taught him to despair. there was but one gleam of light in his otherwise black sky, and that was the presence of his boy. life had still one charm in it as long as he could lay hold of obo’s little hand and hoist him, not quite so easily as of yore, on his broad shoulders. yoosoof was sufficiently a judge of human character to be aware that if he separated these two, kambira would become more dangerous to approach than the fiercest monster in the african wilderness.
“we must sail to-night and take our chance,” said yoosoof, turning away from his captives; “the time allowed for our trade is past and i shall run straight north without delay.”
the arab here referred to the fact that the period of the year allowed by treaty for the “lawful slave-trade” of the zanzibar dominions had come to an end. that period extended over several months, and during its course passes from the sultan secured “domestic slavers” against the british cruisers. after its expiration no export of slaves was permitted anywhere; nevertheless a very large export was carried on, despite non-permission and cruisers. yoosoof meant to run the blockade and take his chance.
“how many dhows have you got?” asked yoosoof.
“three,” replied moosa.
“that will do,” returned the arab after a few minutes’ thought; “it will be a tight fit at first, perhaps, but a few days at sea will rectify that. even in the most healthy season and favourable conditions we must unfortunately count on a good many losses. we shall sail to-morrow.”
the morrow came, and three dhows left the harbour of kilwa, hoisted their lateen sails, and steered northwards.
they were densely crowded with slaves. even to the eye of a superficial observer this would have been patent, for the upper deck of each was so closely packed with black men, women, and children, that a square inch of it could not anywhere be seen.
they were packed very systematically, in order to secure economical stowage. each human being sat on his haunches with his thighs against his breast, and his knees touching his chin. they were all ranged thus in rows, shoulder to shoulder, and back to shin, so that the deck was covered with a solid phalanx of human flesh. change of posture was not provided for: it was not possible. there was no awning over the upper deck. the tropical sun poured its rays on the heads of the slaves all day. the dews fell on them all night. the voyage might last for days or weeks, but there was no relief to the wretched multitude. for no purpose whatever could they move from their terrible position, save for the one purpose of being thrown overboard when dead.
but we have only spoken of the upper deck of these dhows. beneath this there was a temporary bamboo deck, with just space sufficient to admit of men being seated in the position above referred to. this was also crowded, but it was not the “black hole” of the vessel. that was lower still. seated on the stone ballast beneath the bamboo deck there was yet another layer of humanity, whose condition can neither be described nor conceived. without air, without light, without room to move, without hope; with insufferable stench, with hunger and thirst, with heat unbearable, with agony of body and soul, with dread anticipations of the future, and despairing memories of the past, they sat for days and nights together—fed with just enough of uncooked rice and water to keep soul and body together.
not enough in all cases, however, for many succumbed, especially among the women and children.
down in the lowest, filthiest, and darkest corner of this foul hold sat kambira, with little obo crushed against his shins. it may be supposed that there was a touch of mercy in this arrangement. let not the reader suppose so. yoosoof knew that if kambira was to be got to market alive, obo must go along with him. moosa also knew that if the strong-minded chief was to be subdued at all, it would only be by the most terrible means. hence his position in the dhow.
there was a man seated alongside of kambira who for some time had appeared to be ill. he could not be seen, for the place was quite dark, save when a man came down with a lantern daily to serve out rice and water; but kambira knew that he was very ill from his groans and the quiverings of his body. one night these groans ceased, and the man leaned heavily on the chief—not very heavily, however, he was too closely wedged in all round to admit of that. soon afterwards he became very cold, and kambira knew that he was dead. all that night and the greater part of next day the dead man sat propped up by his living comrades. when the daily visitor came down, attention was drawn to the body and it was removed.
moosa, who was in charge of this dhow (yoosoof having command of another), gave orders to have the slaves in the hold examined, and it was discovered that three others were dead and two dying. the dead were thrown overboard; the dying were left till they died, and then followed their released comrades.
but now a worse evil befell that dhow. smallpox broke out among the slaves.
it was a terrible emergency, but moosa was quite equal to it. ordering the infected, and suspected, slaves to be brought on deck, he examined them. in this operation he was assisted and accompanied by two powerful armed men. there were passengers on board the dhow, chiefly arabs, and a crew, as well as slaves. the passengers and crew together numbered about thirty-four, all of whom were armed to the teeth. to these this inspection was of great importance, for it was their interest to get rid of the deadly disease as fast as possible.
the first slave inspected, a youth of about fifteen, was in an advanced stage of the disease, in fact, dying. a glance was sufficient and at a nod from moosa, the two powerful men seized him and hurled him into the sea. the poor creature was too far gone even to struggle for life. he sank like a stone. several children followed. they were unquestionably smitten with the disease, and were at once thrown overboard. whether the passengers felt pity or no we cannot say. they expressed none, but looked on in silence.
so far the work was easy, but when men and women were brought up on whom the disease had not certainly taken effect, moosa was divided between the desire to check the progress of the evil, and the desire to save valuable property.
the property itself also caused some trouble in a few instances, for when it became obvious to one or two of the stronger slave-girls and men what was going to be done with them, they made a hard struggle for their lives, and the two strong men were under the necessity of using a knife, now and then, to facilitate the accomplishment of their purpose. but such cases were rare. most of the victims were callously submissive; it might not be beyond the truth, in some cases, to say willingly submissive.
each day this scene was enacted, for moosa was a very determined man, and full forty human beings were thus murdered, but the disease was not stayed. the effort to check it was therefore given up, and the slaves were left to recover or die where they sat. see account of capture of dhow by captain robert b. cay, of h.m.s. “vulture,” in the times of india, 1872.
while this was going on in the vessel commanded by moosa, the other two dhows under yoosoof and a man named suliman had been lost sight of. but this was a matter of little moment, as they were all bound for the same persian port, and were pretty sure, british cruisers permitting, to meet there at last. meanwhile the dhow ran short of water, and moosa did not like to venture at that time to make the land, lest he should be caught by one of the hated cruisers or their boats. he preferred to let the wretched slaves take their chance of dying of thirst—hoping, however, to lose only a few of the weakest, as water could be procured a little farther north with greater security.
thus the horrible work of disease, death, and murder went on, until an event occurred which entirely changed the aspect of affairs on board the dhow.
early one morning, moosa directed the head of his vessel towards the land with the intention of procuring the much needed water. at the same hour and place two cutters belonging to h.m.s. ‘firefly,’ armed with gun and rocket, twenty men, and an interpreter, crept out under sail with the fishing boats from a neighbouring village. they were under the command of lieutenants small and lindsay respectively. for some days they had been there keeping vigilant watch, but had seen no dhows, and that morning were proceeding out rather depressed by the influence of “hope deferred,” when a sail was observed in the offing—or, rather, a mast, for the sail of the dhow had been lowered—the owners intending to wait until the tide should enable them to cross the bar.
“out oars and give way, lads,” was the immediate order; for it was necessary to get up all speed on the boats if the dhow was to be reached before she had time to hoist her huge sail.
“i hope the haze will last,” earnestly muttered lieutenant small in the first cutter.
“oh that they may keep on sleeping for five minutes more,” excitedly whispered lieutenant lindsay in the second cutter.
these hopes were coupled with orders to have the gun and rocket in readiness.
but the haze would not last to oblige mr small, neither would the arabs keep on sleeping to please mr lindsay. on the contrary, the haze dissipated, and the arabs observed and recognised their enemies when within about half a mile. with wonderful celerity they hoisted sail and stood out to sea in the full-swing of the monsoon.
there was no little probability that the boats would fail to overhaul a vessel with so large a sail, therefore other means were instantly resorted to.
“fire!” said mr small.
“fire!” cried mr lindsay.
bang went the gun, whiz went the rocket, almost at the same moment. a rapid rifle-fire was also opened on the slaver—shot, rocket, and ball bespattered the sea and scattered foam in the air, but did no harm to the dhow, a heavy sea and a strong wind preventing accuracy of aim.
“give it them as fast as you can,” was now the order; and well was the order obeyed, for blue-jackets are notoriously smart men in action, and the gun, the rocket, and the rifles kept up a smart iron storm for upwards of two hours, during which time the exciting chase lasted.
at last jackson, the linguist who was in the stern of lindsay’s boat, mortally wounded the steersman of the dhow with a rifle-ball at a distance of about six hundred yards. not long afterwards the rocket-cutter, being less heavily weighted than her consort, crept ahead, and when within about a hundred and fifty yards of the slaver, let fly a well-directed rocket. it carried away the parrell which secured the yard of the dhow to the mast and brought the sail down instantly on the deck.
“hurra!” burst irresistibly from the blue-jackets.
the arabs were doubly overwhelmed, for besides getting the sail down on their heads, they were astonished and stunned by the shriek, smoke, and flame of the war-rocket. the gun-cutter coming up at the moment the two boats ranged alongside of the slaver, and boarded together.
as we have said, the crew and passengers, numbering thirty-four, were armed to the teeth, and they had stood by the halyards during the chase with drawn creases, swearing to kill any one who should attempt to shorten sail. these now appeared for a moment as though they meditated resistance, but the irresistible dash of the sailors seemed to change their minds, for they submitted without striking a blow, though many of them were very reluctant to give up their swords and knives.
fortunately the ‘firefly’ arrived in search of her boats that evening, and the slaves were transferred to her deck. but who shall describe the harrowing scene! the dhow seemed a very nest of black ants, it was so crowded, and the sailors, who had to perform the duty of removing the slaves, were nearly suffocated by the horrible stench. few of the slaves could straighten themselves after their long confinement. indeed some of them were unable to stand for days afterwards, and many died on board the ‘firefly’ before they reached a harbour of refuge and freedom. those taken from the hold were in the worst condition, especially the children, many of whom were in the most loathsome stages of smallpox, and scrofula of every description. they were so emaciated and weak that many had to be carried on board, and lifted for every movement.
kambira, although able to stand, was doubled up like an old man, and poor little obo trembled and staggered when he attempted to follow his father, to whom he still clung as to his last and only refuge.
to convey these poor wretches to a place where they could be cared for was now captain romer’s chief anxiety. first however, he landed the crew and passengers, with the exception of moosa and three of his men. the filthy dhow was then scuttled and sunk, after which the ‘firefly’ steamed away for aden, that being the nearest port where the rescued slaves could be landed and set free.
