erial lay near at hand in plenty. By degrees, however, the
neighbouring communities had been worked out. Countless numbers of them
were killed, while the pick of the population passed under the slave
yoke, and those of them who survived, vanished in ships to unknown
lands. Thus it came about that the slavers were obliged to go further
afield and even to conduct their raids upon the borders of the territory
of the great Mazitu people, the inland race of Zulu origin of whom I
have spoken. According to our informants, it was even rumoured that they
proposed shortly to attack these Mazitus in force, relying on their guns
to give them the victory and open to them a new and almost inexhaustible
store of splendid human merchandise. Meanwhile they were cleaning out
certain small tribes which hitherto had escaped them, owing to the fact
that they had their residence in bush or among difficult hills.

The track we followed was the recognised slave road. Of this we soon
became aware by the numbers of skeletons which we found lying in the
tall grass at its side, some of them with heavy slave-sticks still upon
their wrists. These, I suppose, had died from exhaustion, but others, as
their split skulls showed had been disposed of by their captors.

On the eighth day of our march we struck the track of a slave caravan.
It had been travelling towards the coast, but for some reason or other
had turned back. This may have been because its leaders had been warned
of the approach of our party. Or perhaps they had heard that another
caravan, which was at work in a different district, was drawing near,
bringing its slaves with it, and wished to wait for its arrival in order
that they might join forces.

The spoor of these people was easy to follow. First we found the body
of a boy of about ten. Then vultures revealed to us the remains of two
young men, one of whom had been shot and the other killed by a blow from
an axe. Their corpses were roughly hidden beneath some grass, I know not
why. A mile or two further on we heard a child wailing and found it by
following its cries. It was a little girl of about four who had been
pretty, though now she was but a living skeleton. When she saw us she
scrambled away on all fours like a monkey. Stephen followed her, while
I, sick at heart, went to get a tin of preserved milk from our
stores. Presently I heard him call to me in a horrified voice. Rather
reluctantly, for I knew that he must have found som