Women in the common walks of life are the slaves of their husbands. The wife rises early in the morning, does the housework for the day, and prepares the morning meal for her husband, who always eats it by himself while she serves. Having finished her own meal, after her husband has eaten his, she cleans up the dishes, and then hastens to the fields to toil all day under a burning sun. The husband, meanwhile, spends the day in sleeping, or gambling, or when opportunity occurs, in thieving or marauding. Sometimes, frequently indeed, the women are carried off by other tribes while out in the fields, and are only released at a price, varying with the excellencies of the woman in question. And yet, if any one were to offer to relieve these women of their work, their offer would be rejected, for this life of toil is what they have been brought up to and trained in, and they know of nothing better. They especially like to be in the fields by themselves, for then they are alone, and are free from the hated presence of man (curiously enough they are said to hate their men), and surely no one would grudge them their liberty. In dark Africa, where lives one-sixth of the heathen population of the globe, human sacrifice is something awful. And the saddest of all is, the victims are mostly from the ranks of women. Of the languages and dialects, five hundred have never been reduced to writing. What scenes of horrors are locked up in oblivion among these wild tribes of that dark land. Almost daily, the numerous wives of the rulers, as they die, are buried alive in their graves, being compelled to hold the dead bodies of their husbands on their laps, until they themselves are relieved by death. The witch doctors annually slay thousands of innocent women. Among the Masai, a woman has a market value equal to five glass beads, while a cow is worth ten of the same.