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

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Sayd smiled at the request.

“Abdullah is not the man willingly to dispose of a healthy slave, who will be able to carry a whole tusk on his shoulders back to the coast,” he answered. “Perhaps when the journey is over he may be ready to talk over the matter, but he will demand a high price, of that you may be certain.”

“I will pay him any price he may ask. I am sure I shall find friends ready to help me to advance the money until I can send it to them from England.”

This answer showed that, although Ned was tramping over the desert in the interior of Africa without a penny in his pocket, or any equivalent in his possession, he had not lost his spirits, and was as sanguine as ever as to getting home some day. As he looked round, however, at the haggard countenances of the Arab leaders and their armed followers, as well as at those of the pagazis, he might with good reason have dreaded that none of them would ever reach the fertile region said to lie beyond the desert. Already many more had fallen, and their track was strewn with the bodies of dead or dying men.

The survivors staggered on, well knowing that to stop was certain destruction. The Arabs no longer attempted to drive them forward, or to distribute the loads of those who sank down among the rest. They themselves were too eager to reach a stream where they might quench their thirst and rest their weary limbs. They would then send back to recover the loads, and pick up any of the men who might still be alive. But hour after hour went by, and the hot sun glared in their faces like the flame from a furnace, almost blinding their eyes. Darkness came on, but still they pushed forward. The same cry resounded from all parts of the caravan: “They must march through the night.” Should they halt, how many would be alive in the morning? Ned had told Chando to keep close to his side, and had supplied him every now and then with a few drops of water. Had others seen this, Ned would have run the risk of having his bottle taken from him. He would, indeed, have been glad to share the water with his companions, but he knew that, divided among many, it would avail them nothing. Not a word was now exchanged among any of Sayd’s party, but they kept compactly together. At length Ned caught sight of some objects rising up ahead. They were tall trees with spreading branches. They would not grow thus unless with nourishment from below.

The Arabs and their followers raised a shout, and pressed forward. Every instant they expected to come upon a stream. Several of the trees were passed, and none was seen. At length they reached a bank below which the stars were reflected as in a mirror.

“Water! water!” was the cry, and Arabs and soldiers and slaves dashing forward, their strength suddenly revived, plunged their faces into the pool, regardless of the danger they ran. Some, more prudent, drank the water from their hands, or from cups they carried, but several, exhausted, fell with their heads below the surface. Some of these were rescued by their comrades, but many were drowned before they could be drawn out. The leaders now issued the order to encamp, and the pagazis, piling their loads, were compelled to search for wood.

On the different bands being mustered by their respective chiefs, nearly half were found missing. Ned set out to search for Chando, and brought him to Sayd’s fire to hear more of his adventures, but, though generally talkative, he was scarcely able to utter a word. Directly the scanty meal had been consumed, the weary blacks as well as their masters were asleep. A few hours only were allowed them to rest, when, their strength being somewhat recovered, a large party with water-bottles were sent along the way they had come to the relief of any who might have survived, and to bring in their loads. A few lives were thus saved, and much of the property dropped was recovered.

Sayd had lost several of his men, but he took the matter very coolly, observing “that it was the will of Allah, and could not be avoided.”

Heavy as the loss of life had been, the Arabs were still sufficiently numerous to march forward to the rich country where they expected to obtain all their hearts desired. A halt, however, of several days was absolutely necessary to recruit their strength. As Sayd was less fatigued than any of the other chiefs, he undertook to go out hunting in order to obtain food, which was greatly required. Ned offered to accompany him. He took Sambroko, Hassan, and three more of his own followers, and having permission to select any experienced hunters from among the rest of the men, recollecting what Chando had said, he fixed among others on him. All were well-armed with muskets, or bows and arrows and spears, and with darts or long knives. Chando, being the most experienced elephant hunter, was sent ahead to look out for game.