searched, residents of the waterfront neighborhood questioned with increasing desperation, but to no avail. Miss Jean Macrae, a gently bred young lady of Scotland, had vanished without a trace.
Chapter
SEVEN
A DIA ON THE M IDDLE P ASSAGE
The Slave Coast fortress that held the captives was the largest, most impressive building Adia had ever seen, but it was the gateway to hell. A narrow door, just wide enough to accommodate one person at a time, allowed chained lines of slaves to pass through to the ship. As she shuffled through the door, Adia knew in her bones that she would never see her homeland again.
Please don't leave me, Grandmother, even though I'm leaving Africa.
As always when she asked her grandmother for help, she felt a gentle touch in her heart. Though that response was wordless, Adia's mind turned the feeling into words in her grandmother's dearly remembered voice.
I won't, child. I will always be with you.
Her grandmother's spirit gave her the dogged determination needed to survive. The voyage was an endless horror beyond anything she had ever imagined. Perhaps one in five of the slaves died during the passage. Once three men broke free and jumped overboard, seeking escape in the only way available to them.
Two succeeded. The third was dragged back to life by sailors who pursued him in a boat. Once the slave was back on board, he was whipped half to death because of his attempt to escape. Kondo, the vicious, snakelike man wielding the whip, was an African and a special aide to the captain. The fact that he was as black as she made him particularly easy to hate.
Yet even in the midst of hunger and despair, there were blessed touches of kindness. One woman in particular, a Yoruba called Fola, looked out for Adia, sleeping beside her at night and making sure that she got her share of the rancid food. Without a word being said, Adia knew that Fola's daughter had been captured and not survived the march to the coast.
Slaves were taken to the deck in small, chained groups to get fresh air. Adia thought this was wise of the captain since without these respites from the stench and disease of the slave decks, few would have survived the passage. Once she saw a crewman looking through a peculiar device made of metal. Seeing her interest, the sailor said,
"This is a quadrant, girl. It tells us where we are. Want to look through?"
"Quad-rant," she said carefully, as she accepted the instrument. She listened to the speech of the sailors whenever she could, trying to learn the language. Grandmother assured her that doing so would be of advantage later. She looked through the metal tube, startled to see the horizon and the sun set next to each other.
"Thank-you," she said as she handed back the device. Grandmother also encouraged her to be polite, because that would make people more willing to help her.
Deck outings taught her that the white sailors could be treated as badly as the black slaves. Once Adia saw the captain beat one of his sailors unconscious, wielding the whip himself. Captain Trent had blue eyes, the coldest color Adia had ever seen. The sailor was left bleeding on the deck while other crewmen brought up the bodies of slaves who had died during the night.
As the first body was thrown overboard, splashing broke out in the water. Adia saw that great finned fish were fighting for the corpse. Fola said emotionlessly,
"Sharks follow the slave ships," and put her arm around Adia's trembling shoulders.
Adia's only escape was in her dreams. Sometimes she was back in the valley with her family, laughing and happy and well fed. Other times she saw herself grown and in a distant land, happy again, though the future was so unclear that she saw no detail of what might produce happiness. Yet the dreams gave her hope, and hope gave strength.
The moon had gone through one full cycle and half of another before they made landfall. Adia woke, thinking something had changed. The ship rolled as it hadn't since
Chapter
SEVEN
A DIA ON THE M IDDLE P ASSAGE
The Slave Coast fortress that held the captives was the largest, most impressive building Adia had ever seen, but it was the gateway to hell. A narrow door, just wide enough to accommodate one person at a time, allowed chained lines of slaves to pass through to the ship. As she shuffled through the door, Adia knew in her bones that she would never see her homeland again.
Please don't leave me, Grandmother, even though I'm leaving Africa.
As always when she asked her grandmother for help, she felt a gentle touch in her heart. Though that response was wordless, Adia's mind turned the feeling into words in her grandmother's dearly remembered voice.
I won't, child. I will always be with you.
Her grandmother's spirit gave her the dogged determination needed to survive. The voyage was an endless horror beyond anything she had ever imagined. Perhaps one in five of the slaves died during the passage. Once three men broke free and jumped overboard, seeking escape in the only way available to them.
Two succeeded. The third was dragged back to life by sailors who pursued him in a boat. Once the slave was back on board, he was whipped half to death because of his attempt to escape. Kondo, the vicious, snakelike man wielding the whip, was an African and a special aide to the captain. The fact that he was as black as she made him particularly easy to hate.
Yet even in the midst of hunger and despair, there were blessed touches of kindness. One woman in particular, a Yoruba called Fola, looked out for Adia, sleeping beside her at night and making sure that she got her share of the rancid food. Without a word being said, Adia knew that Fola's daughter had been captured and not survived the march to the coast.
Slaves were taken to the deck in small, chained groups to get fresh air. Adia thought this was wise of the captain since without these respites from the stench and disease of the slave decks, few would have survived the passage. Once she saw a crewman looking through a peculiar device made of metal. Seeing her interest, the sailor said,
"This is a quadrant, girl. It tells us where we are. Want to look through?"
"Quad-rant," she said carefully, as she accepted the instrument. She listened to the speech of the sailors whenever she could, trying to learn the language. Grandmother assured her that doing so would be of advantage later. She looked through the metal tube, startled to see the horizon and the sun set next to each other.
"Thank-you," she said as she handed back the device. Grandmother also encouraged her to be polite, because that would make people more willing to help her.
Deck outings taught her that the white sailors could be treated as badly as the black slaves. Once Adia saw the captain beat one of his sailors unconscious, wielding the whip himself. Captain Trent had blue eyes, the coldest color Adia had ever seen. The sailor was left bleeding on the deck while other crewmen brought up the bodies of slaves who had died during the night.
As the first body was thrown overboard, splashing broke out in the water. Adia saw that great finned fish were fighting for the corpse. Fola said emotionlessly,
"Sharks follow the slave ships," and put her arm around Adia's trembling shoulders.
Adia's only escape was in her dreams. Sometimes she was back in the valley with her family, laughing and happy and well fed. Other times she saw herself grown and in a distant land, happy again, though the future was so unclear that she saw no detail of what might produce happiness. Yet the dreams gave her hope, and hope gave strength.
The moon had gone through one full cycle and half of another before they made landfall. Adia woke, thinking something had changed. The ship rolled as it hadn't since
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