128 To Sdnga-Tanga and Back . 
gite” where pirogues were cut out, and boats were 
built; there were indeed some signs of this Indus¬ 
trie , 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, flou¬ 
rishes 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 man- 
quent 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 “ Njfna.” 
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 
