ARRIVAL OF THE CAPTIVES. 
265 
There cannot be in the world — there cannot be in 
the whole world — a more appalling spectacle than 
this. My head swam as I gazed. A single horse- 
man rode first, showing the way, and the wretched 
captives followed him as if they had been used to 
this condition all their lives. Here were naked 
little boys running alone, perhaps thinking them- 
selves upon a holiday ; near at hand dragged mo- 
thers with babes at their breasts; girls of various 
ages, some almost ripened into womanhood, others 
still infantine in form and appearance ; old men 
bent two-double with age, their trembling chins 
verging towards the ground, their poor old heads 
covered with white wool ; aged women tottering 
along, leaning upon long staffs, mere living skele- 
tons; — such was the miscellaneous crowd that came 
first ; and then followed the stout young men, ironed 
neck to neck ! This was the first instalment of the 
black bullion of Central Africa ; and as the wretched 
procession huddled through the gateways into the 
town the creditors of the Sarkee looked gloatingly 
on through their lazy eyes, and calculated on speedy 
payment. 
In the afternoon I was informed that the Sarkee 
was really about to enter the town. 
Expecting to see other captives, and anxious to 
be an eye-witness to all these atrocities attendant on 
the razzia, I went to see him pass with his cavalry. 
After waiting ten minutes, there rode up single 
cavaliers, then lines of horsemen, all galloping to- 
