The number of slaves received on board this vessel, both on the
Gambia and at Goree, was one hundred and thirty, of whom about
twenty-five had been, I suppose, of free condition in Africa, as
most of those, being bushreens, could write a little Arabic. Nine
of them had become captives in the religious war between Abdulkader
and Damel, mentioned in the latter part of the preceding chapter.
Two of the others had seen me as I passed through Bondou, and many
of them had heard of me in the interior countries. My conversation
with them, in their native language, gave them great comfort; and as
the surgeon was dead I consented to act in a medical capacity in his
room for the remainder of the voyage. They had in truth need of
every consolation in my power to bestow; not that I observed any
wanton acts of cruelty practised either by the master or the seamen
towards them, but the mode of confining and securing negroes in the
American slave-ships (owing chiefly to the weakness of their crews)
being abundantly more rigid and severe than in British vessels
employed in the same traffic, made these poor creatures to suffer
greatly, and a general sickness prevailed amongst them. Besides the
three who died on the Gambia, and six or eight while we remained at
Goree, eleven perished at sea, and many of the survivors were
reduced to a very weak and emaciated condition.

In the midst of these distresses the vessel, after having been three
weeks at sea, became so extremely leaky as to require constant
exertion at the pumps. It was found necessary therefore to take
some of the ablest of the negro men out of irons and employ them in
this labour, in which they were often worked beyond their strength.
This produced a complication of miseries not easily to be described.
We were, however, relieved much sooner than I expected, for, the