It was even fortunate that Alvez was not obliged to leave Kazounde to visit his two other factories of Bihe and Cassange.  Coimbra was going to take his place in the expedition on new razzias or raids.  There was no motive for regretting the presence of that drunkard.  Above all, Negoro, before setting out, had given Alvez the most urgent commands in regard to Mrs. Weldon.  It was necessary to watch her closely.  They did not know what had become of Hercules.  If he had not perished in that dreadful province of Kazounde, perhaps he would attempt to get near the prisoner and snatch her from Alvez’s hands.  The trader perfectly understood a situation which ciphered itself out by a good number of dollars.  He would answer for Mrs. Weldon as for his own body.

So the monotonous life of the prisoner during the first days after her arrival at the factory, was continued.  What passed in this enclosure reproduced very exactly the various acts of native existence outside.  Alvez lived like the other natives of Kazounde.  The women of the establishment worked as they would have done in the town, for the greater comfort of their husbands or their masters.  Their occupations included preparing rice with heavy blows of the pestle in wooden mortars, to perfect decortication; cleansing and winnowing maize, and all the manipulations necessary to draw from it a granulous substance which serves to compose that potage called “mtyelle” in the country; the harvesting of the sorgho, a kind of large millet, the ripening of which had just been solemnly celebrated at this time; the extraction of that fragrant oil from the “mpafon” drupes, kinds of olives, the essence of which forms a perfume sought for by the natives; spinning of the cotton, the fibers of which are twisted by means of a spindle a foot and a half long, to which the spinners impart a rapid rotation; the fabrication of bark stuffs with the mallet; the extraction from the tapioca roots, and the preparation of the earth for the different products of the country, cassava, flour that they make from the manioc beans, of which the pods, fifteen inches long, named “mositsanes,” grow on trees twenty feet high; arachides intended to make oil, perennial peas of a bright blue, known under the name of “tchilobes,” the flowers of which relieve the slightly insipid taste of the milk of sorgho; native coffee, sugar canes, the juice of which is reduced to a syrup; onions, Indian pears, sesamum, cucumbers, the seeds of which are roasted like chestnuts; the preparation of fermented drinks, the “malofori,” made with bananas, the “pombe” and other liquors; the care of the domestic animals, of those cows that only allow themselves to be milked in the presence of their little one or of a stuffed calf; of those heifers of small race, with short horns, some of which have a hump; of those goats which, in the country where their flesh serves for food, are an important object of exchange, one might say current money like the slave; finally, the feeding of the birds, swine, sheep, oxen, and so forth.