A cry was raised early this morning, "The Sarkee is coming!" Every one went out eagerly to learn the truth. It turned out that a string of captives, fruits of the razzia,[19] was coming in. There cannot be in the world--there cannot be in the whole world--a more appalling spectacle than this. My head swam as I gazed. A single horseman rode first, showing the way, and the wretched captives followed him as if they had been used to this condition all their lives. Here were naked little boys running alone, perhaps thinking themselves upon a holiday; near at hand dragged mothers with babes at their breasts; girls of various ages, some almost ripened into womanhood, others still infantine in form and appearance; old men bent two-double with age, their trembling chins verging towards the ground, their poor old heads covered with white wool; aged women tottering along, leaning upon long staffs, mere living skeletons;--such was the miscellaneous crowd that came first; and then followed the stout young men, ironed neck to neck! This was the first instalment of the black bullion of Central Africa; and as the wretched procession huddled through the gateways into the town the creditors of the Sarkee looked gloatingly on through their lazy eyes, and calculated on speedy payment. [19] Mr. Richardson interchanges the words _razzia_ and _gazia_; the latter, I imagine, is the correct word, but the former is better known to European readers.--ED. In the afternoon I was informed that the Sarkee was really about to enter the town.