y contained, and fresh substituted in its stead,
all which work would require a considerable time for its performance.
The last thing would be the embarkation of the cargo. This would be the
easiest of all, as each "bale" was able to transport itself from shore
to ship, and take its place without giving the least trouble. The
stowage of such a cargo was accounted handy. The slaves, therefore,
remained in the barracoon, and the preparations for their embarkation
went on.

I still yearned to visit the shore. My heart was sick of the scenes
daily witnessed on board, and I believed that if I could only get a
day's excursion into the wild woods it would be a real happiness. I
even fancied it would strengthen me to bear the voyage of the "middle
way," of the horrors of which I had heard something, and about which I
felt forebodings and apprehensions.

It was not even the prospect of my own sufferings that caused me this
uneasiness. It was the thought of the tortures I should witness--the
appalling spectacle of the crowded steerage--the endurance and misery of
those hapless negroes, who were to be penned together with scarce room
to sit down--not enough to lie down--who were to be kept thus for long,
long weeks on scant food and drink--half famished--half dead with
thirst--panting and fainting under tropic heat and foul air, many of
them actually destined to perish from these causes! Such spectacles
should I be called upon to witness--perhaps to take part in. It was
this prospect that gave me pain, and no wonder it should.

My own life was wretched enough--full of regrets. It was not an
absolute fondness for the profession of the sea that had lured me from
home. It was rather an ardent desire to see foreign lands--in short,
that longing for travel and adventure which every boy experiences to
some degree, but which with me was a passion. I fancied that a sailor's
life would enable me to indulge in this propensity; but, alas! here was
I in Africa itself, in the midst of its wild and sublime scenery, and
yet scarce allowed to look upon it! I was more like a prisoner gazing
through the grating of his gaol upon the free world without--like a bird
who sees through the wires of its cage the bright-green foliage, amidst
which it would gladly disport itself.

But I was not without hopes of being able to gratify my longings. Brace
had made me a promise, that as soon as he himself should be allowed a
day to go ashore, he