Thinking black; 22 years without a break in the long grass of Central ...

so
THINKING BLACK
materialised into flesh. Heading for the slave-pen at
Benguella there is no such magic word " Home" to stiffen
their back in resolve to reach it. One of these girls had
fallen behind, strength gone, load of rubber thrown on
the ground, so, emerging from the bush, I was just in time
to see her owner club her head, yelling out a threat with
each stroke. This was more than I could stand, and as
Christ saw nothing worse than that among the Temple
dove-sellers I sprang at this burly Bihean with a stick to
administer unto him a not undeserved trouncing—but of
course he showed a clean pair of heels. One tiny girl I
redeemed from a dark death by the roadside, a girl who
is now a happy Christian mother on Lake Mweru.
Item: Literally sold for a song was one such little
boy whose name became Sikispence, his market value one
coloured handkerchief at 6d.
Item: A native named "Truss of calico" bought one
youngster for Is. 4d. ; a cheap chattel this, stolen while
mother was off in the field.
Item : Dilunga's child, too, was sold for an old water-
proof coat.
Item : Ndala was a boy who fetched, as market price,
a small bag of corn.
Item : Musole and her child were also sold for grain,
two small bags for two human beings. *' Man eats corn,
but corn can eat man," their proverb runs.
Proof positive ? Here is a blunt fellow who has done
the thing for years, no Portuguese he. Quite a prodigy of
obesity for the climate, he has bought and sold many a