ite
soldiers in the place, all of them convicts, and some doubly convicted
of the worst of crimes. There are certain government officials and some
foreign merchants, Germans, banyan traders, Arabs, and others; and all
the rest of the inhabitants are negroes and slaves, or, as the
Portuguese call them, Gentiles. Altogether there was nothing attractive
in the place, and we were very glad that we had not to remain there.

As we stood down the coast we touched at another Portuguese settlement,
that of Inhambane. The town, though it has been established nearly
three hundred years, is a miserable place. It consists of about a
hundred and fifty ill-built houses, thatched chiefly with the broad
leaves of the cocoanut tree, posted generally along the margin of the
harbour, but some of them can be seen peeping out here and there between
the mangrove bushes or cocoa-nut trees along the beach. There is a
fort, the garrison of which consists of some sixty convicts, sent from
Goa to Mozambique, and then, after further misbehaving themselves, sent
on to this place, so their character may well be supposed. There is a
church, but it is in a very ruinous condition. Altogether the place is
a very miserable one, and is evidently withering under the blighting
curse of the slave-trade. The huts of the natives are built in a square
form, instead of round, like those to be seen further south. We heard
that the natural productions of the country in the interior are very
abundant. Among them are indigo, coffee, cotton, trees producing
India-rubber, bananas, plantains, oranges, lemons; the natives collect
gold and ivory; amber and turtle are found on the shore, while all sorts
of fish and the sperm whale exist off the coast. But the slave-trade,
by encouraging international wars, effectually prevents the development
of all these numerous resources, and will prevent them as long as it is
allowed to exist.

We were now approaching the spot whence Bigg told me that he had made
his escape. My heart beat more anxiously than ever as I thought of the
possibility of soon rescuing poor Alfred. I thought of all he had
suffered, of his long banishment from civilised society, and of the
hopeless condition to which he must have been reduced when deserted by
his companion in slavery. I, of course, could think of nothing else,
and my only satisfaction was in being employed in making preparations
for our expedition on shore. Johnny Spratt was ver