“Stop, stop, child!” said my grandfather; “don’t overhaul your questions so fast, and I’ll tell you, for the sight of the dog is a memorandum one cannot meet with every day. The captain had freighted his schooner at Loando, in the Congo country, with one hundred and thirty male and female children, and six fine young men. Thirty-three of the children had died on the passage, and been thrown overboard. The crew of the schooner fearing nothing from the poor emaciated innocents and trusting to the half-starved weakness of the young men, indulged in drinking to excess. But to the surprise of the captain, these latter began to recover their sleek and healthy appearance, and he was calculating upon getting a handsome price for them in the market; when the very night before I fell in with the schooner, the young men rose upon the crew, they attacked the captain in his bed, and inflicted several severe wounds on his body and head. But what could these poor creatures do against a superior force, who were well acquainted with the use of arms? The negroes were overpowered and put in irons; and the wretched man, whom we had seen shot before getting along-side, was the ringleader. But now, mark me, my boy; on inquiry, I discovered that the plan had been a long time in agitation, and these injured and devoted children had daily set apart a portion of their own very scanty food, to strengthen the men for the enterprise. Most of them knew of the attempt, yet none betrayed the secret. I bought Davy of the captain, and went up the Plate as far as I could, (for the schooner was bound to Monte Video,) and then was compelled to quit her, for she was under the flag of a neutral power: besides our own country was then engaged in the same traffic.” “And what became of the children, grandpapa?” “All sold into slavery, my dear.” “And Davy, grandpapa?” “I took him with me: but what he has done with the hut and the plantain ground, I can’t tell.” “And the earthquake; grandpapa?” for I had not forgotten that. “You want to know every thing, boy, and you forget that my memory fails me; however, I’ll try and recollect that too for some other night; but you must go to bed now, and to-morrow Davy will tell you all about it.”