ey know not what it is to have kind friends, they know not what
it is to do as they would like to do: they must do all that he who has
bought them bids them do.

Yes, he who has bought them! for these poor boys and girls can be
bought and sold. They are put on board ships that sail far from the
homes of their hearts; they are torn from all they like best in the
world, from all they have had to love. Far, far off from these scenes
do they sail, and with swoln hearts, and tears too big to fall, they
feel that they must work or die. Some would think it a joy to die, for
death would put an end to what they feel. They think, too, that when
they die they will go back to the home round which their thoughts
cling.

Saib was one of these poor boys--he was born in that far-off place. As
long as he was there, each day was to him a day of joy. Saib had a dear
friend, who was near him at all times, and who took part in all his
sports, and had a tear for all his pains.

Boa was the name of this friend, and she would sit in the same deep
shade with him, and they would climb the same tall tree, and eat the
same fruits. They would row in the same boat, and go fast down the dark
deep stream. There were, too, those who were glad to see their joy, and
who would watch them as they went on and on, till they were far out of
sight. They knew no fear--they had no cause for fear, but in the shape
of a white man.

It was in one of these sails down the stream that they drew their boat
to the shore at a place that was quite strange to them. They got out of
it, and went on till they had gone far in a strange wild spot. On and
on they went, till the step of Boa was not so firm as it had been; it
was less firm each time she put her foot to the ground.

"I can walk no more," she said at last; and quite faint and worn out,
she lay down on the ground. Poor Saib! he all at once thought of their
lorn state, and of how far they were from their home and from help.
There was no sound to be heard, and not a breath of air: all was a
still dead calm.

The strength of Saib, too, was gone--he could hold out no more; and he,
too, sank on the ground. There they both lay, quite worn out with so
much toil; and they fell to sleep. How long they had lain thus they
could not know, for when the next day's sun was far on his course,
where were they then?

All was strange to them--like the queer things dreams are made of. So
they shut their eyes once more, and thou