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Story 4-Chapter IV

Two months had passed by, the waggon was half loaded with ivory, and Mr Vincent had partly recovered from his fever; but all his oxen were dead, and so were nearly half the men he had brought with him. Many of the natives had also died, and great numbers were suffering. It was evident that the low-lying region now occupied by Kanenge and his tribe, intersected as it was by numerous rivers, with swamps in all directions, was very unhealthy. Martin was thankful when his father proposed moving eastward to a higher region.

Kanenge had supplied oxen, which the trader’s surviving followers had been engaged for some time in breaking in. The chief also, confiding in the firearms with which he and his people were to be furnished, agreed to accompany him.

The waggon and goods were transported across the river, and accompanied by Kanenge, with nearly a hundred men, the trader’s party commenced their journey in the proposed direction. Mr Vincent being too weak to walk, was carried in a sort of palanquin, while the rest of the party marched on foot.

After travelling for upwards of a week, the country greatly improving in appearance, they reached a steep hill, up which the waggon was slowly dragged, till at length they found themselves on a wide extent of elevated ground, high above the plain, which stretched away to the southward. Here the air felt pure and comparatively bracing, and Martin at first hoped that his father would recover his strength.

Still, after some days had passed, observing how weak and ill he remained, he could not help fearing that his days were numbered. Should his father die, he would indeed have been in a forlorn condition had he not learned to trust to One who rules all things for the best. He was, therefore, far more anxious about his father than about himself. Each evening, when they encamped, he sat by his side, and having read a portion of Scripture, he endeavoured to turn his father’s thoughts to a future state of existence.

“What, do you think I am likely to die?” asked Mr Vincent one day. “Why do you talk so much about heaven?”

“We have seen many of our companions die, my dear father, and we know how uncertain life is in this country, as it is indeed in all parts of the world, and at all events we should live prepared to quit this life at any moment. Christ has said that we must enter the kingdom of heaven here, we must become His subjects while we are on earth, we must be reconciled to God now, we must be born again; and therefore it is that I am so anxious you should accept His gracious offers, though at the same time I pray that you may be restored to health and strength.”

At first Mr Vincent turned a deaf ear to what his son said, but by degrees his hard heart softened, he saw how earnest and affectionate that son was, and he could not help being aware of his own increasing weakness.

Although he at first thought himself getting better, the disease had taken too strong a hold of him to be thrown off. Martin at length had the infinite satisfaction of finding that his father now listened with deep attention to God’s Word when he read it.

“My dear boy,” he said one day, “I now know myself to be a rebel to God, and grievously to have sinned against His pure and holy laws; and I earnestly desire to accept the gracious offer of mercy which He holds out through the atoning blood of Christ, according to His plan of salvation, which you have so clearly explained to me. I do not know whether I shall live or die, but I pray for grace that I may ever continue faithful to Him who has redeemed me with His precious blood.”

Martin burst into tears on hearing his father thus express himself – they were tears of joy – and he felt the great load which had hitherto oppressed him removed from his heart.

The natives came in to trade, but Mr Vincent was utterly unable to do anything. Had it not been for Martin, who was assisted by Kibo and Masiko, no trade could have been carried on.

At length most of the tusks in the neighbourhood were bought up, and as Mr Vincent had still some goods remaining, he wished to move further on. He was, however, still so ill that he agreed, at the suggestion of his son, to entrust the goods to Kanenge, who promised faithfully to take care of them till his return. He accordingly determined to set out at once, hoping that the air of the desert would restore him to health, and the preparations for the journey being completed, the waggon, with its valuable load of ivory, descended to the plain. Kanenge, with most of his men, escorted it; while Martin and Kibo remained with Mr Vincent, who, should he feel stronger, was to follow the next day on a litter.

Martin’s spirits now revived, and he began to hope that, the journey being commenced, his father would ultimately recover. His chief sorrow was with regard to Kibo. The Makololo chief positively refused to allow him to return. Martin entreated him to remain true to his faith, instead of falling into the ways of his tribe. “Try and instruct them, my dear Kibo,” he said. “Young as you are you may be the means of spreading the glorious truths of the Gospel among them.”

“You pray for me then,” said Kibo. “I poor boy, I very weak, I do nothing by myself.”

“We are all very weak and helpless in God’s work,” said Martin. “If you seek the aid of the Holy Spirit, you will have strength given you.”

“Ah, yes,” said Kibo; “I no trust to myself, and then I strong and do much.”

This conversation took place at the door of the hut.

Martin thought he heard his father call to him. He ran to the side of his couch. Mr Vincent put forth his hand to take that of his son.

“Bless you, my boy,” he whispered; “the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.”

Martin put his arm under his father’s head. The trader’s eyes fixed to the last on his boy, the film of death stole over them, and ere a few minutes had passed he had ceased to breathe.

Kibo left his friend for a time to indulge his grief alone, while he sent off a message to inform Kanenge of Mr Vincent’s death.

Towards evening the next day, instead of the chief, who was expected, Masiko made his appearance. Martin was thankful to have a Christian at such a time with him.

Martin had chosen a spot under a wide-spreading tree for his father’s grave, and Masiko, who had brought some presents to repay the natives, had it dug.

Here the white trader was buried by his orphan son and his two dark-skinned Christian friends.

Kibo had gone back to the village to order Kanenge’s people to prepare for their departure that night, he having received intelligence that a party of their enemies were on the move and approaching the neighbourhood.

Darkness had set in, yet Martin was unwilling to leave the spot till, assisted by Masiko, he had covered the grave over with a thick roof of branches to prevent its being disturbed by savage animals.

He was thus engaged when loud shrieks and cries from the village reached their ears. His impulse was to hasten towards it to find Kibo, that they might, if the placed was attacked, escape together.

“Don’t go,” exclaimed Masiko, grasping Martin’s hand; “you cannot help him, and will be killed or taken prisoner with the rest.”

At that instant several figures were observed rushing towards them.

“Come,” exclaimed Masiko, dragging Martin forward in the direction the waggon had taken. “The enemy will not dare to attack our party armed with guns, and if we can reach them we shall be safe.”

Martin, though anxious to discover his friend, could not help feeling that it would be unwise to return to the village, probably already in the hands of the enemy. He therefore hastened on with his faithful companion, trusting that they would outstrip the foe. He could only hope that Kibo had made his escape, and that he would rejoin them at the waggon. This it was probably the object of the marauding party to have surprised.

They had many miles of rough country to traverse; but, though weary, Martin was unwilling to stop and rest, as it was important to warn Kanenge of what had occurred, that he might move the waggon to a greater distance, or if his force was sufficient, pursue the enemy.

Story 4-Chapter V

Just as day broke, Martin and his companion approached the camp. The chief, observing Martin’s clothes torn, and his and Masiko’s limbs scratched by the bushes through which they had passed, inquired in an anxious tone why they had come without his son and the rest of his people. Masiko then briefly described what had occurred, and said that they had hurried on to warn him of the threatened danger.

“I know that you would not willingly have deserted your friend,” said the chief to Martin.

“No, indeed, I would not,” answered Martin; “and had not Masiko prevented me, I would have returned at all risks to the village to try and discover him. I was in hopes that he might have escaped, and would have followed us. If he does not appear, I am even now ready to return to try and find him.”

The chief uttered an exclamation which showed his grief, and said —

“Too probably he and all with him were surrounded by the enemy, and were either killed or were carried off as prisoners. If there were a possibility of his being alive, I would follow him; but our enemies would not have attacked the place unless with a very large number of fighting men, against whom my people would have no chance of success. I also promised your father to defend the waggon and his property with my life, and if I pursue the enemy I shall leave that defenceless.”

“I will sacrifice the waggon and all its contents rather than allow Kibo to be carried away into slavery,” exclaimed Martin.

“I know your friendship for my son, but it would be useless,” said Kanenge. “If the enemy were to see a party outnumbering them approaching, they would put their captives to death and take to flight. I am better acquainted with the ways of my country than you are. Our first business is to take the waggon to a place where it will be safer than here, and I will at the same time send out scouts to learn what has happened.”

Kanenge now gave orders to have the oxen yoked to the waggon and the march to begin. He had one of the oxen saddled for Martin to ride, who, wearied with his long run, more than once dropping asleep, nearly fell of.

After travelling some distance, a broad stream was reached, with an island in the centre and a village on the opposite side. Signals being made, the natives came across with several canoes. The waggon was quickly unloaded, when it and the goods were carried over to the island.

Kanenge assured Martin that they would be perfectly safe, as the enemy, having no canoes, could not attack them.

Shortly afterwards the scouts who had been sent out arrived, accompanied by one of the men who had been left in the village, and who was bleeding from several wounds. He had a sad account to give. The enemy, numbering upwards of a thousand men, had secretly approached the village, and almost surrounding it before they were discovered, had rushed upon the defenceless inhabitants, killing, as usual, all who opposed them, and making the rest prisoners. The man confessed that he and his companions had been completely surprised, but that they had all fought bravely; and not till he had seen Kibo surrounded by enemies and carried off, and he himself had been wounded, did he take to flight. All the rest had been shot down.

Martin had eagerly listened to what the man said, and hoping from the account he heard that Kibo was alive, he resolved to attempt his release. He proposed, therefore, as soon as he had rested, to follow the enemy; and should he overtake them, to go boldly into their camp, and to try and redeem his friend. They might possibly be content to receive in exchange the remainder of the goods in the waggon, and if not, he should be ready to offer as many tusks as they might demand. He could not devote them to a more satisfactory purpose. He should like to have returned to Mr Warden with a waggon full of tusks, that he might for the future be no cost to him, but he would willingly sacrifice the whole could he regain his friend.

On explaining his plan to Kanenge, the chief replied that though he and Masiko, being strangers, might be allowed to enter the enemy’s camp, should any of the Makololo go, they would be immediately killed.

Masiko, though well aware of the risk that he would run by putting himself in the power of the cruel savages bent on making slaves of all they could capture, without hesitation agreed to accompany Martin.

“God will take care of us, we are doing what is right, we must leave the rest to Him,” he observed.

After a short sleep, Martin and Masiko got ready to set out.

Kanenge selected twelve of his most tried warriors to escort them till they should reach the neighbourhood of the enemy’s camp. The Makololo were then to remain in ambush, to assist in any way which might be found practicable.

Among the stores was an English flag which Mr Vincent had been accustomed to hoist on a high pole above his waggon when prepared to trade with the natives. This Martin fixed to a staff with the intention of unfurling it on approaching the enemy.

Martin and his companions were some distance on their journey before daybreak. They hurried on till fatigue and hunger compelled them to halt. After breakfasting and taking a short rest they again proceeded. In vain they endeavoured to obtain information as to the movements of the enemy. No inhabitants were to be seen.

They passed, however, several villages which had been burned, and saw numerous bodies of men, women, and even of children, shot down while attempting to escape. Some of the men also had evidently been killed while fighting for their homes.

Masiko told Martin that the object of this raid, as well as of numberless others, had been solely to procure slaves to sell to the slave-dealers, who sent up parties many miles to the interior from the east coast.

“Unless the Christian people of your country and others unite to put a stop to the cruel traffic, there will be no peace or happiness for poor Africa,” he observed.

At length a spot where a village had lately stood was reached. The remains of the huts were still smouldering, and it was evident that the enemy had not long quitted it. Numerous dead bodies lay about, shot through by bullets, showing that the enemy had firearms supplied by the white slave-dealers to enable them to carry out their nefarious undertaking. One man was found still breathing. The Makololo showed very little feeling for his sufferings, but Masiko stooping down, poured some water from his leathern bottle into his mouth, which somewhat revived him. The wounded man then told Masiko that the village having been surprised at night, most of the inhabitants had been carried off, and he supposed that the enemy could not be many miles off.

The sufferer’s life was ebbing fast, and in a few minutes he ceased to breathe. Most of those killed were old men and old women, not considered worth carrying off as slaves; or, sadder still, several infants, who, incapable of enduring the fatigues of the journey, had been torn from their mother’s arms and dashed lifeless on the ground.

Martin, unaccustomed to such scenes, felt sick at heart as he contemplated the spectacle, though the Makololo warriors regarded it with indifference. Too often, probably, they had treated their enemies in a similar manner.

The party now proceeded with the greatest caution, as it was difficult to ascertain how far off the enemy might have got. At any moment they might overtake them. Not a single native could be seen from whom they could gain intelligence.

No guide, however, was required to show them the way, as it was too clear by the dead bodies of men and women who had been wounded in the attack, and had sunk down from loss of blood, and frequently by those of very young children, whose weight had prevented their mothers from walking as fast as their cruel captors required.

Martin was anxious as soon as possible to overtake the enemy, that he might have a less distance to send back for the ransom which might be demanded for Kibo. He was therefore much disappointed when night again came on, and his party were compelled to encamp. They were fortunate in finding a spot near a pool, with high rocks and trees round it, where they could venture to light a fire and cook their provisions without the risk of being seen by the enemy.

The usual sounds heard at sunset in an African forest had ceased, and were succeeded by the silence which reigns at night. Martin’s companions too, who had hitherto been talking to each other, had thrown themselves on the ground to sleep. He was about to follow their example, when a cry, which seemed to come from a distance, reached his ears. He listened attentively. It was repeated. He asked Masiko if he had heard anything. Masiko said that he had, but that it was the cry of a wild beast. Martin was almost sure it was a human voice, and that it came from the direction the enemy had taken. Anxious to ascertain if they were in their neighbourhood, Martin begged Masiko to accompany him. Taking their guns, they made their way through the wood, the light from the moon enabling them to do so.

After passing through the wood, they ascended a slight elevation, whence they could distinguish in the distance the light of several fires, while a murmur, proceeding from a large number of human voices, reached their ears. There could be no longer any doubt that they were close to the enemy’s camp, and that the cry they had heard was that of some unfortunate captive being beaten, or perhaps put to death.

On this Martin and Masiko returned to their companions, resolved to set out by daybreak, and to try and reach the marauders’ camp before the march was commenced. Martin was so occupied with the thoughts of what he had to do in the morning that it was long before he could go to sleep. On one thing he was resolved, that he would not allow Masiko to run the risk of being seized by the robbers or carried off with the rest of their captives. Masiko, though very unwilling to let him go alone, at length consented to remain with the rest in their place of concealment till Martin’s return.

Story 4-Chapter VI

Before daybreak Martin and Masiko set out, the latter insisting on accompanying him as far as he could venture without the risk of being discovered.

The sounds which proceeded from the camp showed that the people were already astir, and Martin leaving his gun with Masiko, who remained concealed behind a thick clump of trees, proceeded alone, taking only the slender staff round which his flag was rolled.

He kept himself, as he proceeded, as much as possible under shelter, as his object was to get as far as he could into the camp without being discovered. As the people were engaged in their various occupations – some collecting cattle, others lighting fires to cook their food, while many had not yet even risen from the ground – he succeeded better than he had anticipated. Seeing some huts before him, he guessed that they were occupied by the chief of the band and his attendants. Though a number of people began to press round him, he advanced boldly forward till he got in front of the largest of the huts, when, unfurling his flag, he stood quietly waiting to see what would happen. No one in the meantime attempted to interfere with him, while the countenances of the people exhibited astonishment rather than anger. He had not long to wait before the chief made his appearance at the door of one of the huts, evidently too much surprised at what he saw to utter a word. Martin, taking advantage of his silence, pointed to the flag and inquired if he knew to what nation it belonged. The chief made no reply.

“I must tell you then,” said Martin. “It is that of a great people who have more power than all the tribes of Africa put together; yet powerful as they are, they wish to be friends with all people, and to do them good. You will understand, therefore, that I come to you as a friend, and as such I wish to talk to you, and to arrange a matter which has brought me here.”

The chief, at length recovering a little from his surprise, put out his hand and told Martin that though he had never seen that flag before, nor did he know the nation of whom he spoke, he was welcome. “Probably,” he added, “some of the people in the camp who have travelled to the sea may have heard of the great nation.” Just then a man came forward and addressed the chief in a low tone. Martin did not hear what was said. The chief seemed somewhat agitated, and at length inquired of Martin whether any of the big canoes of his countrymen were in the neighbourhood, and what force he had with him. Martin did not say that no English ships were likely to be in the interior of Africa, nor that probably he was the only Englishman within many hundred miles of him, but he replied cautiously that he had come on an embassy of peace, and that he could not suppose the chief would refuse him the simple request he had to make.

“My countrymen,” he added, “are, as I have said, powerful, and lovers of peace, and yet when they are compelled to go to war they never reduce to slavery those they conquer, but wish them to be as free as they are themselves. Yet they know how to punish those who ill-treat the helpless.”

“Your countrymen may be a great people, but they seem to have very different notions to mine,” observed the chief. “As yet, however, I do not understand your object in paying me a visit.”

“That is the point I am coming to,” answered Martin in as firm a tone of voice as he could command. “You and your people have lately attacked a village in which were some of my friends, and have carried them off to sell as slaves. One of them is an especial friend of mine. He is also of my religion, and understands my language, and I cannot allow him to be carried away to live among strangers. As I told you, I came here on a peaceable errand, and all I demand is that you should set a price on my friend, and if you will allow him to accompany me I will send you the goods you demand.”

The chief, on hearing this speech, looked greatly relieved, and after consulting with several of his headmen, asked Martin to point out the friend of whom he spoke.

Martin replied that he would, and was forthwith conducted to the part of the camp where the unfortunate slaves, who had by this time got ready to commence their march, were assembled. The men were generally chained in parties of six together, with heavy manacles on their hands; while the women were secured two and two with ropes round their waists, they having often to carry loads in addition to their children, who clung to their backs. The boys were manacled in the same way as the men; while the younger girls, though fastened together to prevent their running away, were allowed to travel without loads, not from any feeling of mercy on the part of their captives, but that they might appear to better advantage on their arrival at the slave-market. Some of the men who had apparently been refractory were secured by having their necks fixed in forks at the end of heavy poles, the fork being secured by iron pins bolted in at the broader end so as to prevent them from slipping out their necks. Two or three dozen of the stronger men were thus fastened together two and two, some having also chains round their wrists. A number of men – some armed with spears and swords, and others with muskets – stood ready to prevent the possibility of the captives escaping.

Martin hurried to the spot where the boys were collected, eagerly scanning the faces of the young captives. He had passed by a number, among whom he in vain searched for Kibo. There was one more group a little further on, still sitting or lying down. The reason of this was at once apparent. One of the poor lads being unable to rise, his companions in misfortune were kicking and pinching him to make him get up, with the exception of one, who was endeavouring to protect him from their cruelty. In that one, though deprived of his English clothes and naked like the rest, Martin recognised his friend Kibo. He was so engaged in his generous efforts to protect the sufferer that he did not at first observe Martin approaching. Kibo, at length seeing Martin, uttering a cry of joy, endeavoured to spring forward, but his chain quickly checked him. The other lads on this ceased tormenting their companion, and gazed with astonishment at the stranger and his flag. Martin, speaking in English, told Kibo why he had come to the camp, and advised him not to say who he was lest the chief should increase the amount he might demand for his ransom.

“There is my friend,” he then said, turning to the headman who had accompanied him. “You see, as I told you, that he speaks my language, and you will now believe that everything else I have told you about him is true. Set him at once at liberty, and I will send the goods as soon as I return to the camp.”

Greatly to his joy, Martin saw Kibo’s manacles knocked off, and they stood together grasping each other’s hands. Kibo, however, did not move from the spot, but casting his eyes towards the poor lad on the ground, he said, “Can you get him set free too? he is sick already, and will die if made to travel with the rest. I have been telling him about Jesus Christ, and he says how much he wishes to know Him better, and that he would come to this country and teach people to be happy. Oh, how grieved I should be if he were to die and not know more about Him!”

Martin at once pointed out the sick lad to the headmen, and told them that if they would knock off his chains and carry him to their chief, he would pay a ransom for him as well as for his friend. As the savages saw that this would be a clear gain, well knowing that the lad would die if compelled to march with the rest, they at once complied; and Martin grasping Kibo by the hand, followed by a couple of men carrying the poor lad, returned to the hut, in front of which the chief was seated smoking his pipe, and surrounded by several persons. One of these, though his skin was as brown as that of the rest, had European features, and was dressed in shirt and trousers, and Martin rightly conjectured that he was an agent of the slave-dealers on the coast, and had instigated the raid which had unhappily been so successfully carried out. Martin had brought a list of his remaining goods, and the chief appeared satisfied with those he offered in exchange for Kibo and the other lad. He was in hopes that the matter would quickly be settled, when the white man advised the chief to refuse the articles offered and to insist on having tusks instead. Martin had been too long accustomed to deal with the natives to yield at once, or to acknowledge that he had any tusks.

“I tell you truly that I offer you all my remaining goods,” he answered. “If you will send messengers to receive them, I promise to send them to you as soon as I can get back to my camp.”

The chief, instigated by the slave-dealer, insisted on having tusks, finally agreeing, however, to receive twelve for Kibo and two for the poor sick lad, who, he remarked, was not likely to be of much use to any one. He would probably not have allowed his captives to go free until he had received the tusks, but when Martin promised on the faith of his flag to send them, even the slave-dealer advised him to consent, observing that Englishmen, though he hated them from his heart, always fulfilled their promises. Martin, thankful that his enterprise had thus far succeeded, set out with Kibo, accompanied by fourteen men, who were to go a part of the distance and there to wait till the arrival of the tusks. On consideration of receiving payment, they agreed to carry the poor lad whose freedom Martin had obtained. As they approached the spot where he had left his companions, he and Kibo hurried forward to give them warning. Their joy at seeing their chief’s son was very great, and they declared that Martin ought to be made a chief himself. Martin, committing the two rescued lads to the charge of the Makololo, urged them to hasten on to Kanenge, while he followed with Masiko, as he was anxious to separate the hostile natives as soon as possible, fearing that either one or the other might be guilty of some act of treachery. He advised those who had come from the camp to remain at the spot where he left them till his return. The men begged that he would leave his flag, as no one, they observed, would then venture to attack them, and it would be an additional proof that he intended to fulfil his promise. This he gladly agreed to do. He then set out with Masiko, and travelled on with all speed, supported by the feeling that he had succeeded in his undertaking, and by his wish to fulfil his promise. For many miles the country was desolate, and no food was to be obtained. In the evening, however, they overtook their companions, who had sufficient for their wants. Kibo gave a good report of his friend Telo, who by his directions had been carried on a litter.

“I have promised that you, Martin, will take him with you to the missionary, who will instruct him in the religion of which I have been telling him. He says that as all his friends have been killed or carried off as slaves he will gladly go with you.”

“But I must get you also to go with me, if your father will let you,” said Martin. “You will then learn English, and obtain more knowledge of the Bible; and you may some day return to this country with a white missionary, to whom you may act as interpreter, and be able to instruct your people in the truths of the Gospel.”

Kibo, who had not been attracted by the examples of savage life he had witnessed, gladly promised to try and obtain his father’s leave to return with Martin. He did this more willingly as he found with regret that Kanenge was in no way disposed to listen to him when he tried to explain the Gospel, and he hoped that a missionary would be more successful. The discussion of their plans for the future occupied them during the remainder of their journey. Kanenge received his son with joy, and expressed his warmest gratitude to Martin for bringing him back. Though he confessed that a very high price had been demanded for his liberation, he seemed rather flattered than otherwise by it, and insisted on replacing the tusks taken from Martin’s store. He showed, however, that he was still the savage by observing that Martin had been over-generous in rescuing poor Telo, who was not worth the two tusks he had promised. Martin did not consider it necessary to argue the point, merely replying that he would give them from his own store.