"

"Come you from man-of-war?" asked the Arab, with a keen glance at the
candid countenance of the youth.

"No, our vessel was a trader bound for Zanzibar. She now lies in
fragments on the shore, and we have escaped with nothing but the clothes
on our backs. Can you tell us whether there is a town or a village in
the neighbourhood? for, as you see, we stand sadly in need of clothing,
food, and shelter. We have no money, but we have good muscles and stout
hearts, and could work our way well enough, I doubt not."

Young Seadrift said this modestly, but the remark was unnecessary, for
it would have been quite obvious to a man of much less intelligence than
the Arab that a youth who, although just entering on the age of manhood,
was six feet high, deep-chested, broad-shouldered, and as lithe as a
kitten, could not find any difficulty in working his way, while his
companion, though a little older, was evidently quite as capable.

"There be no town, no village, for fifty miles from where you stand,"
replied the Arab.

"Indeed!" exclaimed Harold in surprise, for he had always supposed the
East African coast to be rather populous.

"That's a blue look-out anyhow," observed Disco, "for it necessitates
starvation, unless this good gentleman will hire us to work his craft.
It ain't very ship-shape to be sure, but anything of a seagoin' craft
comes more or less handy to an old salt."

The trader listened with the politeness and profound gravity that seems
to be characteristic of Orientals, but by no sign or expression showed
whether he understood what was said.

"_I_ go to Zanzibar," said he, turning to Harold, "and will take you,--
so you wish."

There was something sinister in the man's manner which Harold did not
like, but as he was destitute, besides being in the Arab's power, and
utterly ignorant of the country, he thought it best to put a good face
on matters, and therefore thanked him for his kind offer, and assured
him that on reaching Zanzibar he would be in a position to pay for his
passage as well as that of his friend.

"May I ask," continued Harold, "what your occupation is?"

"I am trader."

Harold thought he would venture another question:--

"In what sort of goods do you trade?"

"Ivory. Some be white, an' some be what your contrymans do call black."

"Black!" exclaimed Harold, in surprise.

"Yees, black," replied the trader. "White ivory do come from the
elephant--hims tusk; Black Ivory do