Black Ivory | Page 4

on the opposite bank of the creek there stood several men armed with muskets, which latter were immediately pointed at their breasts.
The first impulse of the shipwrecked friends was to spring back into the bushes--the second to advance and hold up their empty hands to show that they were unarmed.
"Hold on," exclaimed Disco, in a free and easy confidential tone; "we're friends, we are; shipwrecked mariners we is, so ground arms, my lads, an' make your minds easy."
One of the men made some remark to another, who, from his Oriental dress, was easily recognised by Harold as one of the Arab traders of the coast. His men appeared to be half-castes.
The Arab nodded gravely, and said something which induced his men to lower their muskets. Then with a wave of his hand he invited the strangers to come over the creek to him.
This was rendered possible by the breadth of the boat already mentioned being so great that, while one side touched the right bank of the creek, the other was within four or five feet of the left.
Without hesitation Harold Seadrift bounded lightly from the bank to the half-deck of the boat, and, stepping ashore, walked up to the Arab, closely followed by his companion.
"Do you speak English?" asked Harold.
The Arab shook his head and said, "Arabic, Portuguese."
Harold therefore shook his head;--then, with a hopeful look, said "French?" interrogatively.
The Arab repeated the shake of his head, but after a moments' thought said, "I know littil Engleesh; speak, where comes you?"
"We have been wrecked," began Harold (the Arab glanced gravely at his dripping clothes, as if to say, I had guessed as much), "and this man and I are the only survivors of the crew of our ship--at least the only two who swam on shore, the others went off in a boat."
"Come you from man-of-war?" asked the Arab, with a keen glance at the candid countenance of the youth.
"No, our vessel was a trader bound for Zanzibar. She now lies in fragments on the shore, and we have escaped with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Can you tell us whether there is a town or a village in the neighbourhood? for, as you see, we stand sadly in need of clothing, food, and shelter. We have no money, but we have good muscles and stout hearts, and could work our way well enough, I doubt not."
Young Seadrift said this modestly, but the remark was unnecessary, for it would have been quite obvious to a man of much less intelligence than the Arab that a youth who, although just entering on the age of manhood, was six feet high, deep-chested, broad-shouldered, and as lithe as a kitten, could not find any difficulty in working his way, while his companion, though a little older, was evidently quite as capable.
"There be no town, no village, for fifty miles from where you stand," replied the Arab.
"Indeed!" exclaimed Harold in surprise, for he had always supposed the East African coast to be rather populous.
"That's a blue look-out anyhow," observed Disco, "for it necessitates starvation, unless this good gentleman will hire us to work his craft. It ain't very ship-shape to be sure, but anything of a seagoin' craft comes more or less handy to an old salt."
The trader listened with the politeness and profound gravity that seems to be characteristic of Orientals, but by no sign or expression showed whether he understood what was said.
"I go to Zanzibar," said he, turning to Harold, "and will take you,-- so you wish."
There was something sinister in the man's manner which Harold did not like, but as he was destitute, besides being in the Arab's power, and utterly ignorant of the country, he thought it best to put a good face on matters, and therefore thanked him for his kind offer, and assured him that on reaching Zanzibar he would be in a position to pay for his passage as well as that of his friend.
"May I ask," continued Harold, "what your occupation is?"
"I am trader."
Harold thought he would venture another question:--
"In what sort of goods do you trade?"
"Ivory. Some be white, an' some be what your contrymans do call black."
"Black!" exclaimed Harold, in surprise.
"Yees, black," replied the trader. "White ivory do come from the elephant--hims tusk; Black Ivory do come,"--he smiled slightly at this point--"from the land everywheres. It bees our chef artikil of trade."
"Indeed! I never heard of it before."
"No?" replied the trader; "you shall see it much here. But I go talk with my mans. Wait."
Saying this, in a tone which savoured somewhat unpleasantly of command, the Arab went towards a small hut near to which his men were standing, and entered into conversation with them.
It was evident that they were ill pleased with what he said at first for there was