Ned Garth; Or, Made Prisoner in Africa: A Tale of the Slave Trade

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Slaves, to be sure; they are brought here to be sold,” answered Rhymer. “Let’s go on, it will be some fun to watch them.”

Rhymer led the way round the square, examining the different groups of slaves. Although the greater number looked very squalid and wretched, others had evidently been taken care of. Among them were a party of Gallas, mostly women, habited in silk and gauze dresses, with their hair prettily ornamented to increase their personal attractions, which were far superior to those of the negroes. Close to the group stood a man who acted as auctioneer, ready to hand his goods over to the highest bidder. The purchasers were chiefly Arabs, who walked about surveying the hapless slaves, and ordering those to whom they took a fancy to be paraded out before them, after which they examined the mouths and limbs of any they thought of purchasing, striking their breasts and pinching their arms and legs to ascertain that they possessed sufficient muscle and wind for their work.

Ned turned away from the scene with disgust. He longed to be able to liberate the poor slaves, and to place them where they could obtain religious instruction and the advantages of civilisation, for they were, he knew, being dragged from one state of barbarism to another, in many cases infinitely worse, where they would become utterly degraded and debased.

“Is there no hope for these poor people?” he exclaimed, turning to Charley. “Cannot our commander interfere?”

“He has not the authority to do so in the dominions of the sultan; we can only touch those whom we meet on the high seas, beyond certain limits. We shall soon have an opportunity, however, of setting some of them free, for the commander told Mr Hanson that we are only to remain here a couple of days, and then to commence our cruise to the northward.”

“The sooner the better,” exclaimed Ned; “we shall all catch fever if we stay long in this place. Rhymer was right in what he said about it, fair as it looks outside.”

Ned was not disappointed; the “Ione” was soon again at sea, and had reached the latitude beyond which his commander had authority to capture all dhows with slaves on board. A bright look-out was kept aloft, from the first break of day until darkness covered the face of the deep, for any dhows sailing northward, but day after day passed by and none were seen. The ship was then kept further off the land, the commander suspecting that the Arabs and slave traders had notice of his whereabouts. The following day three dhows were seen; chase was made; they were overtaken and boarded; one, however, was a fair trader, but about the two others there was considerable doubt. They each carried a large number of people, whom the Arab captains averred were either passengers or part of their crews. As no one contradicted them, they were allowed to proceed on their voyage.

“This dhow chasing is dull work,” exclaimed Rhymer. “I’ll bet anything that we don’t make a single capture; and if we do, what is the good of it, except the modicum of prize money we might chance to pocket? The blacks won’t be a bit the better off, and the Arabs will be the losers.”

“They deserve to be the losers,” exclaimed Charley, who, influenced by the remarks of Ned, had become as much interested as he was in the duty in which they were engaged. “What business have they to make slaves of their fellow-creatures?”

“Business! Why, because they want slaves, and set about the best way of getting them,” answered Rhymer, with a laugh. The ship was now nearly under the line. The heat, as Rhymer had forewarned his messmates, was very great, though not enough to roast an ox; and when there was a breeze, it was at all events endurable in the shade. Had it been much greater it would not have impeded Commander Curtis in the performance of his duty. Ned bore it very well, although he confessed to Charley that he should like a roll in the snow. When the ship was becalmed the crew were allowed a plunge overboard, but they were ordered to keep close to the side for fear of sharks, and a sail was rigged out in the water for those who could not swim. Several more days passed without a single dhow being seen, and Rhymer declared that they would catch no slavers, for the best of reasons, that there were no slavers to be caught, or that if there were, they would take good care to keep out of their way.