The coast region drained by the Zambesi is inhabited by natives of a pure negro type. In the central and upper parts of the Zambesi region are tribes of a little higher grade of intelligence. They are the conquerors of the original tribes, many of whom still exist.
The Zulu tribes occupy the elevated region which divides the Limpopo from the Zambesi. They have overrun nearly all the territory south of them and subjugated most of its tribes.
In the sections claimed by the Portuguese the slave trade was for many years the shame and disgrace of the white man. All attempts to civilize and educate the natives, by missionaries from other countries, were met by great hostility on the part of the Portuguese. Even the best efforts of the most unselfish and faithful of missionary workers were well nigh fruitless. The greed and the cruelty of the men engaged in the traffic of human beings were almost beyond belief.
Villages were depopulated, homes were laid waste, and fields once under cultivation were despoiled. On every side, ruin and desolation were the work of the destroying hand of the slave trader.
Torn from home, family, and country, their wretched victims were conveyed to the coast, loaded upon some vessel engaged in the inhuman trade, and sold into slavery.
"Faint, gazing on the dying orb of day,
As Afric's injured son expiring lay,
His forehead cold and laboring bosom bare,
His dewy temples, and his sable hair,
His poor companions wept, and cried aloud,
Rejoicing, while his head in peace he bowed,
'Now, thy long, long task is done!
Swiftly, brother, wilt thou run,
Ere to-morrow's golden beam,
Glitters in thy parent stream,
Swiftly the delights to share,
The feast of joy that waits thee there.
Swiftly, brother, wilt thou glide
O'er the long and stormy tide,
Fleeter than the hurricane,
Till thou see those scenes again,
Where thy father's hut was reared;
Where thy infant brothers played
'Neath the fragrant citron's shade,
Where, through green savannas wide?
Cooling rivers silent glide,
And the shrill cigarras sing
Ceaseless to their murmuring.
"'Where the dance and festive song
Of many a friend divided long,
Doomed through strangers' lands to roam,
Shall bid thy spirit welcome home!
Then fear no more the tyrant's power!
Past is his insulting hour!
Mark no more the sullen trait
On slavery's brow of scorn and hate;
Hear no more the long sigh borne
Murmuring on the gales of morn.
Yet we remain, far distant,
Toiling on in pain and want.
When the great sun fires the skies,
To our work of woe we rise
"'And see each night without a friend,
The world's great comforter descend.
Tell our brethren when ye meet,
Thus we toil with weary feet;
Tell them, that love's gen'rous flame,
In joy, in wretchedness the same,
In distant lands was ne'er forgot;
And tell them that we murmur not.
Tell them though the pang will start
And drain the lifeblood from the heart,
Tell them generous shame forbids
The tear to stain our burning lids;
Tell them in weariness and want
For our native hills we pant,
Where soon from shame and sorrow free,
We hope in death to follow thee.'"
Most of the productions of the tropics are found in the Zambesi region. The constant insurrections and disturbances among the native tribes have tended to keep the country from being extensively cultivated.
The animals of this section are very similar to those of South America. The trade in ivory is large. Vast quantities are exported from the west and east coasts.