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him the next. But, in spite of this inconstancy, she was at last entrapped, and those passions which she had rendered so fatal to others were adroitly turned against herself.

She fell in love with a man named Culemba. He was a private soldier in her army, but he possessed all the qualities which such a princess would admire. He was young, strong, and finely proportioned; cruel, bloodthirsty, and remorseless. He possessed all the arts of flattery and insinuation. He studied the nature of this extraordinary woman, and gained such influence over her that she married him publicly, and gave him the half of her throne and kingdom.

But in the course of time the queen found married life a little dull. She yawned sometimes; and it was well known that such yawns swallowed young men's lives. Culemba used every art in his power to retain her affection, and succeeded in postponing her determination.

But when he saw his death-warrant written in her face, and observed that she now studied his beautiful form with the eyes of a gourmand rather than with those of a lover, he invited her to dine with him-the highest compliment which one Jaga can pay to another. He entertained her magnificently (probably with male infants); Lisbon wine and ratafia, from the budding colonies on the Coast, were handed to her in the skulls of her enemies. She drank, and died upon the spot.

Culemba displayed such violent grief, being scarcely restrained from killing himself upon her body, that no one supposed that he had poisoned her. She was buried on a high hill, where a large vault was excavated and divided into several cells, which were furnished with the finest trade-stuffs, mats, and skins. Her favorite drinks and dishes were placed there. Clothed in her warrior's dress, she was buried sitting on her throne in a commanding attitude. Her body was accompanied to the grave by an army; a herd of victims were sacrificed; the musical instruments made a sound like thunder; and above all rose the cries of the unhappy Culemba, who succeeded to the throne.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE ISLANDS OF THE GREEN CAPE.

Santiago.-Trip into the Interior.-A rough Lodging.-Negro Modesty.—San Vincenti.-Character of our Consul.-San Nicholão.-The Town of the Wild Stream. -Quail-shooting.-Boa Vista.-Sal.-Salt-pits.-The Charms of Solitude.

I HAD a return of the fever in a fortnight. It was short and sharp. The healthy influence of the sea exorcised the evil spirit, who went out of me in devilish paroxysms, and I rejoiced at my safe delivery.

On November 10th we anchored off Villa da Praya, the capital of Santiago, the most important island of the Cape de Verds.

The bay is formed by two headlands, one of which is called the White Woman, the other the Timid Woman. The town is built on a table-land perched over the sea. It is half a mile long, and about seven hundred feet broad; is clean and compact, and has a much more civilized appearance than Loanda: the population, too, composed chiefly of whites and mulattoes, gives it the semblance of a European rather than of an African town.

The old capital is about nine miles distant, and is situated on the banks of the Ribeira Grande, or Great River, a small and muddy stream, which in the dry season dwindles to a gutter. The ruins of a cathedral, a bishop's palace, a collegiate school, and a nunnery may be seen there; but, as with all these colonial ruins, they are barren ground to the archæologist.

I went ashore as soon as I could, and, having walked round the town and heard the military band, which is superior to that of Loanda, I went in at a door, above which was painted, in large yellow letters, HOUSE. BILLIARDS. COFFEE. There I made arrangements for hiring a horse and guide, with a view to visiting the interior of the island. I also filled a large bag with boxes of sardines, preserved fruits, and penny loaves; then, having mounted horses of Moorish breed imported from the main land, we cantered over the sandy road toward the mountains.

My guide, who of course commenced the conversation by ask

ing me if my father and mother were alive and well, went a step farther than the savage negro could do, requesting to be informed how old they were, if they were rich, and whether they were good Catholics. This was, of course, unbearable; and as, in spite of my silence, he persisted in urging these inquiries, I solemnly warned him that, if he did not hold his tongue, I would send him back to the town. As he still went on, I took the bag and gave him "the sack." He rode off, looking terrified, not having received it in the gentlest manner, and I was left in solitude and peace.

But, after the first moment of relief, I began to see that my position was not enviable. It was nearly sunset; I was alone in a semi-civilized country (which is far more dangerous than a savage one), without arms, and with a bag which had all the appearance of containing valuable property. I could not speak a word of Creole, as the patois of these islands is called, and which is sometimes unintelligible to the Portuguese themselves. Prudence suggested my return; pride compelled me to go on. So, resolving to shun mulattoes, and to defend myself with the sardine end of the bag, if necessary, I rode on at the sharpest trot of which my gifted steed was capable. When it was twilight-for there is a little twilight in these islands-I saw a group of cottages a short distance out of the road. On arriving among them, I observed a fat, good-natured looking negress standing before one of the doors. I tied my horse to a pulga-tree, and approached her with an amiable smile. It had not occurred to me, however, that, though her round face and large mouth were sufficient to prepossess me in her favor, my physiognomy might not be so assuring. I gave her a small silver coin by way of commencing negotiations; she looked at me angrily, evidently supposing that my intentions were not honorable, pocketed the money, and sent a little girl round a corner as fast as her thin black legs would carry her.

She came back with a negro who had a drawn knife in his hand. Without allowing myself to be embarrassed by this circumstance, I entered the hovel, sat down on a bench, and began to open my bag. Curiosity conquered distrust, and they permitted me to do so. Je connais les nègres, moi. The mouth of the bag being sewn up, I gestured to the negro to lend me his knife. He hesitated. I looked at him with gentle determination. He gave it me. I drew forth my trésors de cuisine, handed the woman some coffee, which I made her understand she should prepare, and gave a biscuit to the girl with the thin legs. The man with

the knife retired; the girl made up a fire; and a boy, leading my horse to a shed, put him up for the night.

While I was taking my coffee and sardines, the master of the house came in. He could speak a little English, having been a voyage to the West Indies, and said that I must stop there that night, which I had previously made up my mind to do. After we had spent an hour or so in conversation by the light of the kernels of the pulga nut—which, strung on a stick and full of essential oil, afforded a good light—it was bedtime among these simple people, who rise at dawn. A mattress was spread on the floor, and, covering myself with a ragged blanket, I experienced that feeling of "roughing it," which, as every traveler knows, is not without its relish.

The little girl now came in and recited a prodigiously long prayer, which lasted several minutes, and which was interspersed with as many yawns as genuflexions. Her father sometimes "gave her the word," but she repeated it, on the whole, with surprising fluency. Afterward the boy came in and went through the same ceremony. The man showed me his religious library, which consisted of a Breviary and of the New Testament translated into Portuguese. The whole family then strewed themselves around me in the most sociable manner. But you need not be shocked. Every country has its anomalies, and in Africa a woman dresses to go to bed. Having covered themselves with their pannos (large shawls made of cotton or wool) to keep out the wind, which entered very freely through various gaps and crevices, they slept the sleep of the peasant and the pig. Then all was silent; the struggling flame of the pulga cast fluttering shadows on the wall; and a sandy-colored cat walking to and fro preserved our slumbers from the rats-disturbers of nocturnal rest.

At daybreak I drank a cup of milk, warm and frothing from the goat, and then I proved (not for the first time) the truth of that axiom, "Give a nigger the ship, and he'll ask you for the long-boat." I had a considerable quantity of preserved fruits, bread, and coffee in my bag, and, as they had treated me very well, I gave them all that there was, except a small box of figs, in addition to a gratuity in money.

At first they were so astounded by this act of liberality that they could scarcely speak. When they did find their tongues, no gratitude could be more profuse. "God would reward me for

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