BLACK IVORY

Evening Post, Volume CX, Issue 68, 17 September 1930, Page 18

BLACK IVORY

SLAVE TRADE TO-DAY

SILENT ARAB HUNTERS

DEPOTS li\ THE DESERT

At Addis Ababa wo had learned that, despite the decrees of tho Negus, slavery existed in Abyssinia within view of the foreign legations, and at Harrar we had seen it in its absolute form. Human beings, though perhaps one must say human beings in their most elementary stage of development —were there serving others just as animals are used. They had no rights and every duty. Their masters fed them just as it pleased them. They punished them terribly according to their humour. The slaves could not marry. Their children did not belong to them, but to their masters. They had no recourse. Tho primitive courts of Abyssinia do not deal with the complaints of slaves. There is a tacit agreement between the owners of human flesh and the judges which renders inoperative the decree of liberation which the Negus recently promulgated, writes Joseph Kessel in tho "New York Times."

Flight is impossible for a slave. Most of them aro taken very young and do not even remember the country of their origin. All they cau recollect is some vague imago of the forests and huts in which they were born. And if urged by despair they try to escape, they cannot get far. Their physical type marks them. As long as they acknowledge a master they aro free, in a sense, to wander through tho streets or forest ways of .j their master's town or province, but as soon as anyone sees a Chaukulla, a Sidam, or an Oualarno who has no master he is arrested and interrogated. If h© tells who his master is, lie is taken back. If he pretends to be free he belongs to whoever finds him. Perhaps, if he is lucky, he may find a master who is less severe than the one he fled from. That is about all he can hope for, and to get it he must risk his life. THE SLAVE'S LOT. Both at Harroue and Harrar I questioned many people, always. indirectly, for owe can never approach frankly tho question of slavery. But slaves, peasants, soldiers, Moslems, Europeans, who had lived for' a long time in 'the district, and even the Abyssinian lords, all gave me answers which confirmed the others. The district in which we were was only a day's march from the railway which joins Addis Ababa to Jibouti. It was the district which depends directly upon the reigning sovereign—that is to say, tho only man in Ethiopia who wishes to change the lot of the slaves. One can only imagine what is that lot on the outskirts of the Empire, in those districts which are ruled by feudal chiefs, where only the soldier has any right at all. One day we were invited to dine, with the son of a Vedjaz who _ was fighting against the rebels of Tigne. This lad of noble presence, with a charming smile, had been brought up by French priests. He spoke French well, and obviously wished to do us honour. His vassals were waiting for us on the threshold, their rifles at present arms. They were Abyssinians, and in this country which they had conquered they might.be nothing else than, soldiers. . It was the slaves who took us to the presence of their master. After dinner wo were taken into a 1 kind of withdrawing room which faced on the court. As we entered, we heard a kind of moaning which sometimes j rose to a cry- and then faded away,) like a child's wailing. Our host gave an order to one of his men. Out in the courtyard we heard a noise of cursing and blows, and then there was silence. ' Most politely our host turned to,us: "I am sorry you have been troubled," he said. "My neighbour has an insupportable little slave. He got drunk yesterday, and they had to tie him up and beat him. But I do not wish him to cry while you are here." Next day I learned from a boy that the little slave had died from his lashings, and that he had been buried in the garden of our young and charming host. SAID COMES. At Addis Ababa I had been told by the old slave trader to seek out in Harrar his friend Said, who was still carrying on the trade, but to find Said was no easy matter. None of the Europeans with whom we came in contact had. ever heard of him, and none of the natives would admit that they knew him, and we dared not identify him by saying that we were interested in the slave traffic. Then one day, as we were riding 011 muleback from Harrone to Harrar, a fine-looking Arab, mounted on a mule, approached us. He seemed, indeed, to have been waiting for us, and drew near with salutations and signs of friendship. In the Arabic that is spoken locally he told our boy that his name was Said, and that he had received a letter from his friend Azziz from. Addis telling him to search us out. At once he told us that he was about to go on a business excursion which might interest us. "How far is it," we asked him, "and when do you leave?" "Two j days' march and at once," he replied. We had a hurried consultation, and decided to go with him. That two days' journey was made through deep jungle and forest, a long path which twisted and twined, and was so narrow that we could not walk two abreast. The country was sq uninhabited that even the gazelles and the jackals did not flee from us, but watched us for a long time without moving. The first night we stayed in a village of straw huts where the villagers gave us a frugal dinner of goat's flesh and herbs. There Said told us how he carried on tho slave trade., FOR AKABS ONLY. "Only Arabs do it," he said, "for the Abyssinians are too lazy and seldom leave their country. "We who come from the Hejaz, from "Assyria and Yemen, love to travel. Our ancestors went far into India and into Spain. The trade used to be easy. "When the Abyssinians conquered the provinces near the Sudan there were droves of men, women, and children.to buy and to sell. Whole caravans used to travel toward Arabia. Now it is not so. These provinces have been settled, and tho slaves have disappeared. Whole tribes have vanished. Then there are decrees. We must be careful, we must pay taxes, cross the deserts and ship our merchandise secretly. Here now there is no real market. AU that I can do is to collect one or two caravans, about fifteen or twenty slaves a year, for Arabia. There is a bare living in it even when all of them survive the journey. I have to buy most of them from chiefs who have no money to pay their taxes and apply to me. I give the tax money and take ! the slaves. When I have gathered ■ enough together at a depot I make my caravan for Arabia."

When flay broke Said wakened us and told us to drink our fill, for in the country wo were to cross there was no water. Even, in Abyssinia we never travelled through, a more deserted arid district. Said, like all Arabs when on the march, nevor spoke, until we saw

in front of us, astride a hilltop, ;, village of sonio siz/?. ''Here we are si I tho depot," said Said. "SLAVES EVERYWHERE." This was a very different village from those we had scon, before. lv place of straw huts there were stone houses built ono against another, as if for strength, and the whole place had the appearance of a fortress. It. was an Aragoubau village, Said told us, and explained that the Aragoubas were ;i branch of tlie great race of the Ga.llas and were, indeed, the most intelligent, the proudest and the bravest of that race. "In their villages," Said said, "we can always hide our caravans of slaves safely for a small payment. Formerly the Aragouban chiefs lived almost entirely oft' this traffic." When we entered it the little town had a sinister appearance. There was no one in the streets. There seemed to be no one in the houses It was not until wo came to the other side of the village that the mystery of this desertion was explained. There tho whole population had gathered, armed with flails, beating Indian millet. It was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen—a chain oi volcanic hills for as far as we could see, and tho men of the village gathered in circles, each with his Hail, their black bodies rising and falling rhythmically as they beat the hard ears. "Are these- slaves?" we asked Said. Without a smile, he replied: '' You see slavcsi everywhere. These aro not slaves; they aro the A.rogoubas of the village. My slaves aro resting. They have travelled a long way and they have further to go." Later he showed thorn to us, raising some planks which concealeu a cellar. In that dark hole four women were sleeping, as if exhausted by fatigue. They did not even open their eyes when we looked at them. In another cellar wore sis men. In another, three. Every house in the village seemed to have its secret hiding-place. The caravan was to leave that evening, but Said had something else to propose to us. He gave a raucous cry, and two men appeared, one old and wrinkled, the other a powerful youth, as strong and supple of limb as a leopard. Thi.. was Selim, whose trade it was to abduct children for the slave trade of his master. ON THE HUNT. At daybreak we were off again, accompanied only by those two menhunters, across wild, rocky country where only a thorny mimosa grew. When dawn, came Selim rose and slipped quietly toward the corner of the path by which the women had mounted to their homes, the evening before. There he lay on Ms belly, ready to spring, lik© a leopard in ambush, waiting for its prey. Then we heard, feebly at first, the noise of a troup of animals approaching. It came nearer and nearer, and wo grew more and more tense. The goats passed, then Selim leaped. It was the leap of a wild beast, as powerful and as silent. The girl who was driving her goats to the pasture had not time even to cry out. In an instant she was gagged and bound and helpless. Without a word, Selim threw her over his shoulder, and, motioning ■to us to follow him, rushed back across the valley by the road along which we had come tho day before. Until he reached the shelter of the rocks, on th© other side, he never stopped running. Even with the weight of his burden he outdistanced us, and it was the old hunter who was our guide back to the village. FOX SALE, CHEAP. Said greeted us with smiles and asked if \v» were pleased with our ex- . pedition. When we told him that our pleasure would be greater if he would sell us the girl whom Selim had kidnapped, ho did not seem at first to understand why we should want her, though he admitted that she was well made, good looking. "In Arabia," he said, "she would fetch 400 dollars, but I supposo that th-o buyer who will come to this side of the soa to take my caravan will only give me 200 dollars. He thought deeply for some minutes, apparently calculating all the risks. "I'll let you have her for 150 dollars," he said, finally. And so we bought our first slave, and sent her back acepmpanied by the old man-liuntcr to the valley from which she had been kidnapped. This escort rather aroused our suspicions, but Said reassured us. "Don't worry," he said, "he has worked for me for ten years and will not sell her elsewhere." Selim the hunter had already been dispatched, on another expedition, this time to capture a young lad.