Before continuing our cruise along the African coast, the squadron (the Belle Poule and Africaine, frigates, and Coquette, corvette) went to the Cape Verd Islands, both to give the crews change of air, to test the speed of the various vessels, and to take in fresh provisions.  This last object was defeated, in consequence of a curious circumstance.  A Portuguese station in the Bissago Archipelago had been attacked by the negroes, and when reinforcements had been asked for, the government at Lisbon had answered by sending two transports to fetch troops from the Cape Verd Islands,—­from Porto-Praya, where we had anchored, in particular,—­and to convey them to the threatened spot.  But before embarking troops they had to be found, and there were none, or rather they existed on paper only.  To supply the want and respond to the pressing appeal made to him the governor could devise no better plan than to set an ambush at the gates of the different towns, seize the country people as they came in, and send them away as soldiers.  Of course, when once wind of this got about, nobody came in, the markets were deserted, and the towns were famine-stricken.  Although the Cape Verd Islands appear from sea to be nothing but arid mountains, with bare rocks and rugged slopes, they really are furrowed with delightful valleys, covered with leafy woods, where innumerable monkeys peacefully dwell, and in which the flocks of guinea-fowl inhabiting the open spaces on the islands take refuge from pursuit.  There is no more curious sight to be seen than these mobs of birds, two or three hundred of them together, tearing along like a contingent of Arab horsemen, at such a rapid pace that it is impossible to come up with them, on that rocky soil, even with the best of horses.  A native of the island gave us a luncheon in one of the valleys of which I speak.  His house, which was reached through an avenue of cocoa-palms, stood in the middle of a grove of enormous orange-trees, over sixty feet in height.  We were waited on at table by handsome negresses, slaves; and these, according to our host, were the conditions of their life.  Their time, except on Sundays, belonged to their master, who, in return, gave them their food, and, when necessary, an occasional beating.  They dressed themselves out of the money they earned—­Heaven knows how!—­lodged where they best could, and were given a bonus whenever they had a child—­a young slave to add to their owner’s stock.  It was a simple arrangement enough.  On my return to the African coast, I was to tumble headlong into all the questions contingent on the slave system, the suppression of the slave trade, which still existed, and the whole future of the negro race.