‘In half a moon, more than half of the slaves were dead and thrown overboard. The king was yet alive; when he came on board, he was oily and fat, but now his bones were sticking out like knots and splinters, and he was covered with sores, as a leopard with spots. We lived on the flour of cassava and water. White men came down with great baskets of it mixed, and we plunged in our hands and drew out lumps of leaven, and ate. We did not now fight or struggle, but lay and tried to sleep; we had more room, and five or six died every day, because the stench had brought the fever spirit, and he sailed with us in the dark hold. Then, one night when the white moon was coming down the hatchway, the captain of the ship approached, and turned his lantern upon us as we lay—the king and me—where they had first chained us down. Then he began to ask where were the white men who were carried off after the ships broke, to be slaves. But he stopped and said to two sailors who were with him, “Take off their chains and bring them on the deck; it is better to speak there in the moonlight, than in this stench.” Our chains were taken off—we climbed the ladder—we passed the hatchway—and we stood upon the deck. The moon shone, as it shone above my hut—above the dark woods—above the dark river—above my country; the breeze was sweet to taste, as palm wine after bitter water. The white men slept upon the deck—the ship went steady before the night wind which came over the sea. It was good. The captain asked us again where the white men were slaves, and we told him a moon and two moons and three moons from where the dark river joined the sea. Then we said, that if he carried us back the white men would be found, and he would have them, and we would go ashore and we would make war and bring him many slaves and never cut the great ropes again. The captain spoke to the two white men who were with him, and very soon they took us down below, but they did not chain us again; many other slaves were also unchained, for all were very quiet; and when the white men struck them, or cut their flesh with their knives, they only groaned or cursed in their throats. I lay awake all that night, and the god that stood in my father’s hut, with the necklace of wild beasts’ teeth, gave me thoughts in my heart. I said to myself, we are slaves, but we may be masters; only one watches at the hatchway—at night the wind is small and the sea is smooth—the white men sleep in the moonlight—we may arise and kill them, and have the ship and its riches. I thought these things long to myself, and before the dawn I wakened the king and told him, and we conversed in whispers; the next day we told others, who were the stoutest men left, and who could speak the language of our nation. Thus we agreed, and we searched for billets of wood and spikes of iron, and bits of chains or fetters, to arm ourselves. The night came again, and the moon shone again through the hatchway.