rer had been made as comfortable as circumstances would
allow--for he was much weakened by loss of blood as well as agonised
with pain--and after he had been refreshed with food and some warm tea,
Harold questioned him, through the interpreter, as to his previous
history.

At first the man was brusque in his manner, and inclined to be sulky,
for a long course of cruelty had filled him with an intense hatred of
white men. Indeed, an embittered and desperate spirit had begun to
induce callous indifference to all men, whether white or black. But
kind treatment, to which he was evidently unaccustomed, and generous
diet, which was obviously new to him, had a softening influence, and
when Harold poured a small glass of rum into his tea, and Antonio added
a lump of sugar, and Disco pressed him tenderly to drink it off--which
he did--the effect was very decided; the settled scowl on his face
became unsettled, and gradually melting away, was replaced by a milder
and more manly look. By degrees he became communicative, and, bit by
bit, his story was drawn from him. It was brief, but very sorrowful.

His name, he said, was Chimbolo. He belonged to a tribe which lived far
inland, beyond the Manganja country, which latter was a country of
hills. He was not a Manganja man, but he had married a Manganja woman.
One night he, with his wife and mother, was paying a visit to the
village of his wife's relations, when a band of slave-hunters suddenly
attacked the village. They were armed with guns, and at once began to
murder the old people and capture the young. Resistance was useless.
His relatives were armed only with bows and spears. Being taken by
surprise, they all fled in terror, but were pursued and few escaped.
His wife, he said--and a scowl of terrible ferocity crossed Chimbolo's
face as he said it--was about to become a mother at the time. He seized
her in his arms on the first alarm, and fled with her into the bush,
where he concealed her, and then hurried back to aid his relations, but
met them--old and young, strong and feeble--flying for their lives. It
was not possible to rally them; he therefore joined in the flight.
While running, a bullet grazed his head and stunned him. Presently he
recovered and rose, but in a few minutes was overtaken and captured. A
slave-stick was put on his neck, and, along with a number of Manganja
men, women, and children, he was driven down to the coast, and sold,
with a number of o