TO THE READER

Read this book and visions see

Of Afric land and tropic sea;

Of beaches wide where great waves roar,

Where sea birds scream and vultures soar;

Of lofty palms that bow and sigh

And cast their shade where slavers lie;

Of steaming forests and calm lagoons,

And swelt’ring blacks in barracoons;

Of brutal captains and negro kings,

And dusky belles in anklets and rings;

Of muddy rivers where black craft hide

Among the mangoes—at anchor ride;

Of brig and schooner, snow and ship,

Casting from shore with anchor atrip;

Filling away for the Western World

With cargoes below oft-times hurled

To feed the ravenous water brutes

Which ever cruise on the slavers’ routes;

Of idle ships on a sea asleep

Along the line where the latitudes meet;

Of a western land where “Cotton was King”

And the markets were busy when the slavers were in.

Ernest H. Pentecost.

xvii