ng was that he
resolved at all events to look well after Azinte, and see that she
should be cared for on her arrival at the Seychelles.

Among the poor creatures who had been rescued from Marizano's dhow were
nearly a hundred children, in such a deplorable condition that small
hopes were entertained of their reaching the island alive. Their young
lives, however, proved to be tenacious. Experienced though their hardy
rescuers were in rough and tumble work, they had no conception what
these poor creatures had already gone through, and, therefore, formed a
mistaken estimate of their powers of endurance. Eighty-three of them
reached the Seychelles alive. They were placed under the care of a
warm-hearted missionary, who spared no pains for their restoration to
health; but despite his utmost efforts, forty of these eventually died--
their little frames had been whipped, and starved, and tried to such an
extent, that recovery was impossible.

To the care of this missionary Lieutenant Lindsay committed Azinte,
telling him as much of her sad story as he was acquainted with. The
missionary willingly took charge of her, and placed her as a nurse in
the temporary hospital which he had instituted for the little ones above
referred to. Here Azinte proved herself to be a most tender,
affectionate, and intelligent nurse to the poor children, for whom she
appeared to entertain particular regard, and here, on the departure of
the `Firefly' shortly afterwards, Lindsay left her in a state of
comfort, usefulness, and comparative felicity.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

DESCRIBES SOME OF THE DOINGS OF YOOSOOF AND HIS MEN IN PROCURING BLACK
IVORY FROM THE INTERIOR OF AFRICA.

A dirty shop, in a filthy street in the unhealthy town of Zanzibar, is
the point to which we now beg leave to conduct our reader--whom we also
request to leap, in a free and easy way, over a few months of time!

It is not for the sake of the shop that we make this leap, but for the
purpose of introducing the two men who, at the time we write of, sat
over their grog in a small back-room connected with that shop. Still
the shop itself is not altogether unworthy of notice. It is what the
Americans call a store--a place where you can purchase almost every
article that the wants of man have called into being. The prevailing
smells are of oil, sugar, tea, molasses, paint, and tar, a compound
which confuses the discriminating powers of the nose, and, on the
principle t