ousand times! Many a night, when alone on my
watch at sea, or in yonder stockade, marching up and down before the
_barracoon_, I have wept like a child for the innocent crew of that
little schooner; but, as for the murderer of _Don Miguel_--!" He
stared wildly for a minute into my eyes--shuddered--fell back--was
dead!

I have no doubt the outlaw's story contained exaggerations, or fell
from a wrecked mind that was drifting into eternity on the current of
delirium. I cannot credit his charge against the Monrovian colonists;
yet I recount the narrative as an illustration of many a bloody scene
that has stained the borders of Africa.

FOOTNOTE:

[G] The reader will recollect this is not CANOT'S story, but the
sailor's.

CHAPTER LXI.

During my first visit to Digby, I promised my trading friends--perhaps
rather rashly--that I would either return to their settlement, or, at
least, send merchandise and a clerk to establish a factory. This was
joyous news for the traffickers, and, accordingly, I embraced an early
occasion to despatch, in charge of a clever young sailor, such stuffs
as would be likely to tickle the negro taste.

There were two towns at Digby, governed by cousins who had always
lived in harmony. My mercantile venture, however, was unhappily
destined to be the apple of discord between these relatives. The
establishment of so important an institution as a slave-factory within
the jurisdiction of the younger savage, gave umbrage to the elder. His
town could boast neither of "merchandise" nor a "white man;" there was
no profitable tax to be levied from foreign traffic; and, in a very
short time, this unlucky partiality ripened the noble kinsmen into
bitter enemies.

It is not the habit in Africa for negroes to expend their wrath in
harmless words, so that preparations were soon made in each settlement
for defence as well as hostility. Both towns were stockaded and
carefully watched by sentinels, day and night. At times, forays were
made into each other's suburbs, but as the chiefs were equally
vigilant and alert, the extent of harm was the occasional capture of
women or children, as they wandered to the forest and stream for wood
and water.

This dalliance, however, did not suit the ardor of my angry favorite.
After wasting a couple of months, he purchased the aid of certain
_bushmen_, headed by a notorious scoundrel named Jen-ken, who had
acquired renown for his barbarous ferocity throughout t