Chapter Eight.
Another Dhow chased—Slaves thrown overboard—Dhow captured—Her Hold—Zanzibar—“Spicy Odours”—A Trip on Shore—The Slave-market—Horrors of the Slave-Trade in the Interior—A Store in Zanzibar—Murray and Adair pay a Visit to the Sultan—Summary Justice.
Upwards of a fortnight had gone by since the corvette and brig last weighed anchor. Neither of them had been idle; numerous dhows had been chased, some of them overtaken and boarded. A large proportion of them had been of necessity let go, from want of sufficient evidence to warrant their condemnation. The corvette had captured two with slaves on board, and continued her course with them; while the Romp had parted company, chasing a suspicious sail which made every effort to escape. On being turned from the shore by the Opal, whose boats had been sent after her, she had stood to the eastward.
She was a large craft, with an enormous spread of canvas, and the little Romp had to put her best foot foremost to keep her in sight. Jack Rogers, however, was not to be disappointed of his prey. Setting every stitch of canvas the brig could carry, he steered after her, hoping that by some fortunate chance he might at length get her under his guns.
Dick Needham and Tom were standing on the forecastle, with their glances directed towards the chase, on which it was evident they were at length gaining. “It seems to me, Mr Needham,” observed Tom, who had been taking a long, steady look at the chase, “they’re heaving something overboard; what it is I can’t make out,—scarcely a cargo of ballast,—but we shall soon discover when we get up to her, as we shall, I hope, before long.”
Needham took another steady look. “As true as I’m an Englishman, it is her cargo though,” he exclaimed; “a living cargo, or what was living not long ago. They’re heaving overboard the black slaves; not one at a time, as I’ve seen down on the West Coast, just to induce the cruiser in chase to heave-to for the purpose of picking them up, but dozens at a time, so it seems to me. Yes, I am sure of it, the outrageous villains! they’ve no notion of the power of our glasses. I wish our guns would carry as far; we’d soon make them understand that we’d our eyes upon them.”
“I’ll go and tell the commander,” exclaimed Tom. “Can nothing be done to stop them?”
“We’re doing all we can, for we can’t make the brig walk faster than she’s going,” answered Needham.