en there was seen far off a dense cloud
like dust.

"They come! they come!" said the white men. "More blacks are on us! To
the ship! to the ship!"

Saib knew not what was said or done, and if he had heard, there would
have been no help for him. He was thrown in the boat with two or three
more blacks, and then from the boat he was flung on board the ship, and
the ship set sail.

Fast did she cut through the sea, and soon was far out of sight of
land. It was well for Saib that he could _not_ feel. Four or five days
ran their course, and still was Saib in this state.

The first words he heard when he came to his senses were--"He is _not_
dead, I tell you."

"I tell you he _is_," a voice said: "it is of no use to keep him, so
here he goes--(Saib felt a hand)--and let the sea take the rest of
him."

Poor Saib had but so much strength left that he could just raise his
arm.

"There, there!" said the first voice, "I told you he was not dead, and
now you see."

"Well, let him be, then, but he shall pay us well for this; he shall
bring us a good price."

Saib could hear no more; but the first man, who was a kind one, went to
get some warm drink to put in Saib's mouth. He put more and still more,
till at length Saib could move and raise his head.

"Boa! Boa!" were the first words he spoke; and he put his hands to his
eyes, and did not speak for a long time. He then gave one loud, deep
sob, and his tears fell fast.

Those tears took a weight from his mind, a weight he felt he could not
have borne long. For some time did these tears fall, and as they fell
the view of things that _had_ been was more clear to his mind.

Saib felt that all joy for him in this world was gone: he felt there
was no one for him to love now; and great was his grief when he thought
of those who would not know what had been the fate of poor Boa and of
him. He thought of these things, and his heart was sad. In this state
of mind he was for two or three days, and the ship was still on the
wide sea.

Saib knew well what would be his fate: he knew that he would be sold
for a slave; and he did all he could to try to bear this thought; nay,
lorn and sad as he was, he could find a source of thanks in the fact
that the pang he would have felt to have seen Boa a slave was not to be
his.

Yes, this was a source of deep thanks; and as the ship cut through the
blue waves, Saib would sit for hours with his eyes on some far-off
star, and that star woul