About two o’clock in the afternoon, the meat was taken from the platform, “done brown,” and was bound into a light bale of provisions for each person, with bark rope, and with a perfectly satisfied feeling, the party sallied out, and continued the journey south.
At sunset they encamped near a pool of water, and after surrounding themselves with a stout brush fence, they set to work upon some more meat, with an enjoyment and gusto few can realise outside of those who have gone through similar experiences. Jokes were freely made; Simba uttered his dry, crisp remarks, which set them all laughing. Then, when the supper was over, and Moto had taken out from some extraordinary recess of his loin-cloth a leaf of tobacco, and some lime, and handing a bit to Simba, who received it with joyful gratitude, and placed it in his mouth, with a pleasure which lit his face up. Moto called out to Niani for a story. Little Niani was taken aback by this, and blushed as much as he could blush, for his face seemed to burn, and tingle, as he felt the high honour conferred on him. He answered, he did not know how to tell a story. But Moto having explained to him that he only wished to know what had become of him after he left Katalambula’s village, Niani said:
“Oh, it is soon told. Tifum the Wicked, after we came to Katalambula’s, took me to his own hut, and made me wait on him, fetch water, and light his pipe for him, and when Ferodia left Katalambula’s that night, when he was angry because Simba and Kalulu would not let him take Master Selim with him, I was marched off by Tifum. On the road, Tifum beat me several times, and once threatened to cut my head off, if I did not hurry my steps. I was sorry, and I felt as if I did not care much what he would do to me, since I was parted from Master Selim, who was always so good to me. One of the Arab slaves was caught as he was trying to run away, and Ferodia ordered him to be killed. He was thrown on the ground by six men, and while one man drew his head back by the hair, another with a knife that was not sharp, began to cut his head off. The blood of that poor man spouting up in the faces of the cruel men, while his body was shaking, and moving about as he tried to breathe, I shall never forget; and if only for that savage work of Tifum, who stood by laughing, I think Tifum the Wicked has been served right. Nothing else happened on the road, except that every day some poor slave was badly used, and beaten until he died. I think that more than twenty people died on the road. We got at last to Ferodia’s village, which is not near so big as Katalambula’s was, though he has plenty of cows, and sheep, and goats. Tifum had four wives, all ugly and cruel, and when Tifum told them to make use of me, those bad women treated me worse than he had done; they pulled my hair, pinched my ears and face, slapped me on the back, made me run after water, to tend their goats, and bring them back at night. Indeed, they nearly killed me, while Tifum laughed as if he enjoyed it. I then thought it better to be very good, and do my work quick, which, when Tifum saw, he took me away from them, and made me work for him only; but he was all the time saying he would cut my throat some day, and eat me—and he used to open his mouth so wide! I think I could have jumped down into it, if I tried hard. I heard him say often, too, how sorry he was he did not have one of the white slaves—meaning Master Selim and Master Abdullah—the Pagan dog! for he thought he could have been much more thought of by his people if he had one of them. Then we heard, one day, that Katalambula was dead, and Kalulu was king, which made Ferodia fearfully angry, and say how he would chop up into little bits everybody who helped him; and the next day, after plenty of talk, he took a great number of people with him, and came towards Katalambula’s. Tifum took me with him, and made me carry his spears, and bag of rice, and a gourdful of water. I was thinking all the time I would tell Simba and Moto what Ferodia was going to do, if I could only get in; but at the village of the tribe of Meroeni, Tifum left me behind, by orders of Ferodia, and I knew I could not help you. The night it was all to take place I tried again, but I could not; and in the morning we all left for Katalambula’s, only to find the warriors of Ferodia masters of the village. You know the rest. I saw you all slaves, and I came very near crying when I saw it; but I stopped it, for fear of Tifum. But all the time I was thinking, and thinking how I could help you all, but I was afraid. Then that night in the forest, after Soltali was burnt, I heard Tifum swear that in the morning he would cut Kalulu’s head off, and, whether Ferodia liked it or not, he would then cut off Master Selim’s head. I became angry then. Yes, you may laugh; but my heart was black, and once or twice I looked at Tifum’s knife hungrily, and I thought how I should like to bury it in his black neck; but no; I waited until after Tifum had eaten his supper, and I heard him groan in pain, and I thought he would never stop; but he did at last, and went asleep. Then I got up, with Tifum’s knife in my hand, and came to you, Master Selim. And now you know all that Niani knows.”
“Ngema toto, Toto nwema sana,” (Good child, very good child), cried Moto; but Simba stretched out his long, strong arm, and laid hold of Niani and lifted him up, and hugged the little mite—until he was almost hidden by the great, strong arms—close to his mighty breast, and poured into his ear such endearing terms that poor little Niani had never heard before, that made his eyes water after a singular manner, which he could not very well have explained but that he felt a great big lump in his throat, which seemed as if it would choke him.
Selim, his son, dear young master, who was so very superior to him, and all whom he had ever seen, his Master Selim, who had such a beautiful mamma at Zanzibar—his Master Selim, whom he had seen dressed in gold and silver raiment, in the beautifullest clothes of blue and red silk, and whitest linen, Niani saw looking at him with eyes full of kindness, and a smile on his face,—for which he would have gone through the hottest fire,—with a look which went straight into him, and kindled within him a feeling akin to idolatry, and heard the sweetest words which were ever uttered in his hearing from him. “Come to me, come near Selim, Niani;” and the little black waif, who hitherto had been neglected and allowed to grow wild unnoticed by a single kind human eye, was clasped by his young master and kissed!
“My own mamma shall thank thee, Niani,” said Selim, resting his hand, upon his head. “Thou dost remember her, dost thou not, Niani?”
“Ah, when shall I forget her, master, or you?” said Niani; while from under the half-closed eyes and bowed head rolled the tears in streams down his cheeks.
“Nay, Niani, thou shalt not say ‘you’ to me more; say ‘thou,’ because thou art no longer my slave—thou shalt be more; thou shalt be my friend. Selim has no slaves around this fire. Neither Simba nor Moto are my slaves; they are my friends, and now thou art also one.”
“Yes, but Master Selim, Simba and Moto are big, and I am little and bad, and some day, perhaps, I shall do something wrong, and you will be no longer my friend.”
“And when that day comes,” responded Selim, “I shall remember a little boy who crept through a camp of wicked people in the dead of night, while all others were afraid of Soltali’s ghost, and came and delivered his master Selim from the sharp knife of Tifum, and the memory of that deed shall be sure to make me say, ‘Forgive Niani, for the sake of that he did to thee. Forgive him for the life he gave back to thee.’”