us, and led the way to his "town." Finding his guest an
Englishman, the host, who spoke a few words of French and
Portuguese, at once began to talk of his "summer gite" where
pirogues were cut out, and boats were built; there were indeed
some signs of this industrie, but all things wore the true
Barracoon aspect. Two very fine girls were hid behind the huts,
but did not escape my factotum's sharp eyes; and several of the
doors were carefully padlocked: the pretty faces had been removed
when he returned. This coast does an active retail business with
Sao Thome and the Ilha do Principe,--about Cape Lopez the "ebony
trade" still, I hear, flourishes on a small scale.

During our halt for breakfast at the barracoon, we were visited
by Petit Denis, a son of the old king. His village is marked upon
the charts some four miles south-south-east of his father's; but
at this season all the royalties, we are assured, affect the sea-
shore. He was dressed in the usual loin-wrap, under a broadcloth
coat, with the French official buttons. Leading me mysteriously
aside, he showed certificates from the officials at Le Plateau,
dating from 1859, recommending him strongly as a shipbroker for
collecting emigrants libres, and significantly adding, les negres
ne manquent pas. Petit Denis's face was a study when I told him
that, being an Englishman, a dozen negroes were not worth to me a
single "Njina." Slave cargoes of some eight to ten head are
easily canoed down the rivers, and embarked in schooners for the
islands: the latter sadly want hands, and should be assisted in
setting on foot a system of temporary immigration.

At 10.45 A.M. we resumed our march. The fiery sun had sublimated
black clouds, the northeast quarter looked ugly, and I wished to