by Jules Verne
CHAPTER IX.
KAZONNDE.
By the 26th of May, when the caravan reached Kazonnde the number of theslaves had diminished by more than half, so numerous had been thecasualties along the road. But the dealers were quite prepared to makea market of their loss; the demand for slaves was very great, and theprice must be raised accordingly.
Angola at that time was the scene of a large negro-traffic, and as thecaravans principally wended their way towards the interior, thePortuguese authorities at Loanda and Benguela had practically no powerto prevent it. The barracks on the shore were crowded to overflowingwith prisoners, the few slave-ships that managed to elude the cruisersbeing quite inadequate to embark the whole number for the Spanishcolonies to America.
Kazonnde, the point whence the caravans diverge to the various parts ofthe lake district, is situated three miles from the mouth of theCoanza, and is one of the most important _lakonis_, or markets of theprovince. The open marketplace where the slaves are exposed for sale iscalled the _chitoka_.
All the larger towns of Central Africa are divided into two distinctparts; one occupied by the Arab, Portuguese, or native merchants, andcontaining their slave-barracks; the other being the residence of thenegro king, often a fierce drunken potentate, whose rule is a reign ofterror, and who lives by subsidies allowed him by the traders.
The commercial quarter of Kazonnde now belonged to Jose Antonio Alvez.It was his largest depot, although he had another at Bihe, and a thirdat Cassange, where Cameron subsequently met him. It consisted of onelong street, on each side of which were groups of flat-roofed housescalled _tembes_, built of rough earth, and provided with square yardsfor cattle. The end of it opened into the _chitoka_, which wassurrounded by the barracks. Above the houses some fine banyan-treeswaved their branches, surmounted here and there by the crests ofgraceful palms. There was at least a score of birds of prey thathovered about the streets, and came down to perform the office ofpublic scavengers. At no great distance flowed the Loohi, a river notyet explored, but which is supposed to be an affluent or sub-affluentof the Congo.
Adjoining the commercial quarter was the royalresidence.]
Adjoining the commercial quarter was the royal residence, nothing morenor less than a collection of dirty huts, extending over an area ofnearly a square mile.
Some of these huts were unenclosed; others were surrounded by apalisade of reeds, or by a hedge of bushy figs.
In an enclosure within a papyrus fence were about thirty hutsappropriated to the king's slaves, another group for his wives, and inthe middle, almost hidden by a plantation of manioc, a _tembe_ largerand loftier than the rest, the abode of the monarch himself.
He had sorely declined from the dignity and importance of hispredecessors, and his army, which by the early Portuguese traders hadbeen estimated at 20,000, now numbered less than 4000 men; no longercould he afford, as in the good old time, to order a sacrifice oftwenty-five or thirty slaves at one offering.
His name was Moene Loonga. Little over fifty, he was prematurely agedby drink and debauchery, and scarcely better than a maniac. Hissubjects, officers, and ministers, were all liable to be mutilated athis pleasure, and noses and ears, feet and hands, were cut offunsparingly whenever his caprice so willed it. His death would havebeen a cause of regret to no one, with the exception, perhaps, ofAlvez, who was on very good terms with him. Alvez, moreover, fearedthat in the event of the present king's death, the succession of hischief wife, Queen Moena, might be disputed, and that his dominionswould be invaded by a younger and more active neighbour, one of thekings of Ukusu, who had already seized upon some villages dependent onthe government of Kazonnde, and who was in alliance with a rival tradernamed Tipo-Tipo, a man of pure Arab extraction, from whom Cameronafterwards received a visit at Nyangwe.
To all intents and purposes Alvez was the real sovereign of thedistrict, having fostered the vices of the brutalized king till he hadhim completely in his power. He was a man considerably advanced inyears; he was not (as his name might imply) a white man, but had merelyassumed his Portuguese title for purposes of business; his true namewas Kendele, and he was a pure negro by birth, being a native of Dondoon the Coanza. He had commenced life as a slave-dealer's agent, and wasnow on his way towards becoming a first-class trader; that is to say,he was a consummate rascal under the guise of an honest man. He it waswhom Cameron met at the end of 1874 at Kilemba, the capital of Urua, ofwhich Kasongo is chief, and with whose caravan he travelled to Bihe, adistance of seven hundred miles.
It was midday when the caravan entered Kazonnde. The journey from theCoanza had lasted thirty-eight days, more than five weeks of misery asgreat as was within human power to endure. Amidst the noise of drumsand coodoo-horns the slaves were conducted to the marketplace. Thesoldiers of the caravan discharged their guns into the air, and oldAlvez' resident retinue responded with a similar salute. The bandits,than which the soldiers were nothing better, were delighted to meetagain, and would celebrate their return by a season of riot and excess.
The slaves, reduced to a total of about two hundred and fifty, weremany of them almost dead from exhaustion; the forks were removed fromtheir necks, though the chains were still retained, and the whole ofthem were driven into barracks that were unfit even for cattle, toawait (in company with 1200 to 1500 other captives already there) thegreat market which would be held two days hence.
The _pagazis_, after delivering their loads of ivory, would only stayto receive their payment of a few yards of calico or other stuff, andwould then depart at once to join some other caravan.
On being relieved from the forks which they had carried for so manyweary days, Tom and his companions heartily wrung each other's hands,but they could not venture to utter one word of mutual encouragement.The three younger men, more full of life and vigour, had resisted theeffects of the fatigue, but poor old Tom was nearly exhausted, and hadthe march been protracted for a few more days he must have shared Nan'sfate and been left behind, a prey to the wild beasts.
Upon their arrival all four were packed into a narrow cell, where somefood was provided, and the door was immediately locked upon them.
The _chitoka_ was now almost deserted, and Dick Sands was left thereunder the special charge of a havildar: he lost no opportunity ofpeering into every hut in the hope of catching a glimpse of Mrs.Weldon, who, if Hercules had not misinformed him, had come on hitherjust in front.
But he was very much perplexed. He could well understand that Mrs.Weldon, if still a prisoner, would be kept out of sight, but why Negoroand Harris did not appear to triumph over him in his humiliation wasquite a mystery to him. It was likely enough that the presence ofeither one or the other of them would be the signal for himself to beexposed to fresh indignity, or even to torture, but Dick would havewelcomed the sight of them at Kazonnde, were it only as an indicationthat Mrs. Weldon and Jack were there also.
It disappointed him, too, that Dingo did not come back. Ever since thedog had brought him the first note, he had kept an answer written readyto send to Hercules, imploring him to look after Mrs. Weldon, and tokeep him informed of everything. He began to fear that the faithfulcreature must be dead, perhaps perished in some attempt to reachhimself; it was, however, quite possible that Hercules had taken thedog in some other direction, hoping to gain somedepot in the interior.
But so thoroughly had Dick persuaded himself that Mrs. Weldon hadpreceded him to Kazonnde that his disappointment became more and morekeen when he failed to discover her. For a while he seemed to yield todespair, and sat down sorrowful and sick at heart.
Suddenly a chorus of voices and trumpets broke upon his ear; he wasstartled into taking a new interest in what was going on.
"Alvez! Alvez!" was the cry again and again repeated by the crowd.
Here, then, was the great man himself about to appear. Was it notlikely that Harris or Negoro might be with him?
Dick stood erect and resolute, his eye vivid with expectation; he feltall eagerness to stand face to fa
ce with his betrayers; boy as he was,he was equal to cope with them both.
The _kitanda_, which came in sight at the end of the street, wasnothing more than a kind of hammock covered by a faded and raggedcurtain. An old negro stepped out of it. His attendants greeted himwith noisy acclamations.
This, then, was the great trader, Jose Antonio Alvez.
Immediately following him was his friend Coimbra, son of the chiefCoimbra of Bihe, and, according to Cameron, the greatest blackguard inthe province. This sworn ally of Alvez, this organizer of hisslave-raids, this commander, worthy of his own horde of bandits, wasutterly loathsome in his appearance, his flesh was filthily dirty, hiseyes were bloodshot, his skin yellow, and his long hair alldishevelled. He had no other attire than a tattered shirt, a tunic madeof grass, and a battered straw hat, under which his countenanceappeared like that of some old hag.
Alvez himself, whose clothes were like those of an old Turk the dayafter a carnival, was one degree more respectable in appearance thanhis satellite, not that his looks spoke much for the very highest classof African slave-dealers. To Dick's great disappointment, neitherHarris nor Negoro was among his retinue.
Both Alvez and Coimbra shook hands with Ibn Hamish, the leader of thecaravan, and congratulated him on the success of the expedition. Alvezmade a grimace on being told that half the slaves had died on the way,but on the whole he seemed satisfied; he could meet the demand that atpresent existed, and would lose no time in bartering the new arrivalfor ivory or _hannas_, copper in the shape of a St. Andrew's cross, theform in which the metal is exported in Central Africa.
After complimenting the havildars upon the way in which they had donetheir work, the trader gave orders that the porters should be paid anddismissed. The conversations were carried on in a mixture of Portugueseand native idioms, in which the African element abounded so largelythat a native of Lisbon would have been at a loss to understand them.Dick, of course, could not comprehend what was said, and it was onlywhen he saw a havildar go towards the cell in which Tom and the otherswere confined, that he realized that the talk was about himself and hisparty.
When the negroes were brought out, Dick came close up, being anxious tolearn as much as he could of what was in contemplation. The oldtrader's eyes seemed to brighten as he glanced upon the three strappingyoung men who, he knew, would soon be restored to their full strengthby rest and proper food. They at least would get a good price; as forpoor old Tom, he was manifestly so broken down by infirmity and age,that he would have no value in the market.
In a few words of broken English, which Alvez had picked up from someof his agents, he ironically gave them all a welcome.
"Glad to see you!" he said, with a diabolical grin.
Tom knew what he meant, and drew himself up proudly.
"We are free men!" he protested, "free citizens of the United States!"
"Yes, yes!" replied Alvez, grinning, "you are Americans; very glad tosee you!"
"Very glad to see you!" echoed Coimbra, and walking up to Austin hefelt his chest and shoulders, and then proceeded to open his mouth inorder to examine his teeth.
A blow from Austin's powerful fist sent the satellite staggeringbackwards.
Some soldiers made a dash and seized the young negro, evidently readyto make him pay dearly for his temerity; but Alvez was by no meanswilling to have any injury done to his newly-acquired property, andcalled them off. He hardly attempted to conceal his amusement atCoimbra's discomfiture, although the blow had cost him one of his frontteeth.
After he had recovered somewhat from the shock, Coimbra stood scowlingat Austin, as if mentally vowing vengeance on some future occasion.
Dick Sands was now himself brought forward in the custody of ahavildar. It was clear that Alvez had been told all about him, forafter scanning him for a moment, he stammered out in his brokenEnglish,--
"Ah! ah! the little Yankee!"
"Yes," replied Dick; "I see you know who I am. What are you going to dowith me and my friends?"
"Yankee! little Yankee!" repeated the trader, who either did not orwould not comprehend the meaning of Dick's question.
Dick turned to Coimbra and made the same inquiry of him; in spite ofhis degraded features, now still farther disfigured by being swollenfrom the blow, it was easy to recognize that he was not of nativeorigin. He refused to answer a word, and only stared again with thevicious glare of malevolence.
Meanwhile, Alvez had begun to talk to Ibn Hamish. Dick felt sure thatthey intended to separate him from the negroes, and accordingly tookthe opportunity of whispering a few words to them.
"My friends, I have heard from Hercules. Dingo brought me a note fromhim, tied round his neck. He says Harris and Negoro have carried offMrs. Weldon, Jack, and Mr. Benedict. He did not know where. Havepatience, and we will find them yet."
With a yell and a curse, the American fell dead at hisfeet.]
"And where's Nan?" muttered Tom, in a low voice.
"Dead," replied Dick, and was about to add more, when a hand was laidupon his shoulder, and a voice that he knew too well exclaimed,--
"Well, my young friend, how are you? I am glad to see you again."
He turned round quickly. Harris stood before him.
"Where is Mrs. Weldon?" asked Dick impetuously.
"Ah, poor thing!" answered Harris, with an air of deep commiseration.
"What! is she dead?" Dick almost shrieked; "where is her child?"
"Poor little fellow!" said Harris, in the same mournful tone.
These insinuations, that those in whose welfare he was so deeplyinterested had succumbed to the hardships of the journey, awoke inDick's mind a sudden and irresistible desire for vengeance. Dartingforwards he seized the cutlass that Harris wore in his belt, andplunged it into his heart.
With a yell and a curse, the American fell dead at his feet.
