e first places among
the Negroes who have distinguished themselves by a high degree of
culture.

He was the son of an African prince. The country subject to the
latter's domination was called Gangusilang; the family,
Magni-Famori. Besides the little Mmadi-Make (this was Angelo's
name in his native country) his parents had another younger
child, a daughter. He remembered with what respect his father,
surrounded by a large number of servants, was treated; he had,
like every prince's child of that country, certain marks
imprinted on his two legs, and for a long time he hoped that he
would be sought for, and recognized by these marks.

Even in his old age, the memories of his childhood, of his first
practice in shooting arrows, in which he surpassed his comrades,
the memory of the simple customs and the beautiful blue sky of
his native country, often recurred to his mind with a pleasure
not unmixed with sorrow. He could not sing, without being
profoundly affected, those songs of his native land which his
good memory had very well conserved.

It appears, from Angelo's reminiscences, that his tribe already
had some civilization. His father possessed many elephants, and
even some horses which were rare in those countries; money was
unknown, but trade by barter was carried on regularly and by
auction. Stars were worshipped; circumcision was usual. Two white
families lived in the country.

Some writers who have published accounts of their voyages, speak
of the perpetual wars between some tribes of Africa, of which the
purpose was sometimes vengeance or robbery, sometimes the most
ignominious kind of avarice, because the victor took the
prisoners to the nearest slave market in order to sell them to
the whites. One day as the boy, then seven years old, was
standing at the side of his mother who was nursing his sister, a
war of this kind of a danger that his father did not suspect
broke out against the tribe of Mmadi-Makee. Suddenly there were
heard the frightful clashing of arms and howlings of the wounded.
Mmadi-Make's grandfather, struck by fear, ran into the cabin
crying: "There is the enemy." Fatuma, frightened, arose. The
father hastily sought his weapon; and the little boy, terrified,
ran away as quickly as an arrow. His mother calle