THE GORILLA HUNTERS. 199

“Dat am a slabe-dealer,’ whispered our guide, as the
stranger came up and saluted us in French.

Jack replied in the same language; but on learning
that we were Englishmen, he began to talk in our own
tongue, although he evidently understood very little
of it.

“Do you travel alone with the natives?” inquired
Jack, after a few preliminary remarks.

“Yaas, sair, I doos,” replied the stranger, who was a
Portuguese trader, according to his own account.

“You seem to carry little or no merchandise with
you,” said Jack, glancing towards the party of natives,
who stood at some distance looking at us and conversing
together eagerly.

“JT has none wis me, true, bot I has moche not ver’
far off. I bees go just now to seek for ivory, and ebony,
and sl-a—w’at you call him? bar-wood.”

The man corrected himself quickly, but the slip
confirmed Makarooroo’s remark and our own suspicions
that he was a slave-dealer.

“ De day is far gone,” he continued, putting as amiable
a smile on his countenance as possible; “per-haps you
vill stop and we have dine togedder.”

Although we did not much like the appearance of
our new friend or his party, we felt that it would be
uneourteous in so wild a country, where we had so
few chances of meeting with white faces, to refuse,
so we agreed. A camp fire was speedily kindled,
and the two parties mingled together and sat down
amicably to discuss roash monkey and venison steaks
together.

During the course of the meal the Portuguese trader
became so communicative and agreeable that we all
began to think we had judged him harshly. We