“An excellent plan!” exclaimed David. “We shall thus be able to add largely to our knowledge of natural history; and if Kate and Bella do not object to live a savage life for so many months, I think we can make our stay not only satisfactory, but in many respects delightful.”
“I am glad to do whatever you wish, my brothers,” said Kate; “and I think I shall enjoy the life you propose very much. I wish I had a few more books to teach Bella from; but we must make the most of those we have: and I will undertake to cook for you and tend the house, for I suppose you do not intend living out in the woods all the time?”
“Oh no, no,” said David. “Wherever we settle to remain we must at once build a house, where you and Bella can live in comfort, and where we can stow our stores and collections of natural history.”
Of course I agreed to my cousin’s plan; and, indeed, I thought it, under all circumstances, the most advisable. Even should we reach one of the Portuguese settlements, we might not be able to find a vessel to carry us to the Cape; besides which, they are mostly unhealthy, and it would be far better travelling along the mountains than having to spend any length of time at one of them. I was afraid, however, that Senhor Silva would not so readily agree to this plan, as he might be anxious to reach Loando. I was relieved when I heard him say—
“Well, my friends, I approve of your proposal; but we must not wait here an hour longer than is necessary. At night we shall find unhealthy vapours rise from yonder river, and the sooner, therefore, we get away from its banks the better.”
“But we have no horses or waggons to carry our goods,” I observed, looking at the pile of property before me. “Even if each of us were to take a heavy package, we could not carry it.”
“I will see to that,” said Senhor Silva. “I think I can secure the services of some of those negroes, although they may not be willing to venture far into the country. Mr Crawford, will you come with me, and we will see what can be done?”
I started up with my gun in my hand, for I did not like the appearance of the black savages. I remembered the way the poor crew of the Osprey had been treated, and thought it possible, if we were taken unawares, that we might meet the same fate.
“The case is very different here,” said Senhor Silva in reply to my remark as we walked along. “Those poor men fell victims to the treachery not so much of the blacks, as of some of the white slavers who had but a short time before curried off a number of their kindred and friends. I heard the story on board the schooner. They had enticed them down to the coast on pretence of trading, and then surrounding them, had captured some forty or fifty of their number, and carried them off on board their ship. Those who had escaped, very naturally vowed vengeance against the first white men they might meet, of course not distinguishing between English and Portuguese. Thus the unfortunate crew of the brig became their victims. They would, had we landed before they had had time to ask questions, very probably have put us all to death. We have had, indeed, a providential escape.”
We found that the slave-dealers and most of their followers had already taken their departure—probably to avoid rendering us any assistance. They had only come down to the coast to embark their captives, and had gone back again, my companion supposed, to obtain a fresh supply. We found, however, about a dozen men, who came out when Senhor Silva called them in their own language. When he assured them that we were friends, and that we would treat them honestly, they agreed, without hesitation, to act as our bearers as far as the Crystal Mountains. Beyond them they declined going, saying that they had enemies on the other side who would certainly, if they found them, kill them, or carry them off as slaves, or, they added, “very likely eat us, for they are terrible cannibals.” As soon as the arrangement was made, they all came leaping and hooting and rushing against each other, like a set of school-boys unexpectedly let loose for a half holiday, or a party of sailors on shore after a long cruise.