CHAPTER XIV.
"_Aboan_ .-- The innocent! _Oroonoko_ .-- These men are so, whom you would rise against.
If we are slaves, they did not make us slaves, But bought us in the honest way of trade, As we have done before 'em, bought and sold Many a wretch, and never thought it wrong.
They paid our price for us, and we are now Their property, a part of their estate, To manage as they please." At an early hour the party, consisting of Mr Kingston, the master of the brig, and Newton, set off upon mules for the habitation of the planter.
The sun had illumined the sky, but had not yet made his appearance, although the golden fringes upon the clouds, which floated in broad belts in the horizon, indicated his glorious yet withering approach.

The dew moistened each leaf, or hung in glittering pendant drops upon the thorn of the prickly pears which lined the roads.

The web of the silver-banded spider was extended between the bushes, and, saturated with moisture, reflected the beams of the rising orb, as the animals danced in the centre, to dazzle their expected prey.

The mist still hovered on the valleys, and concealed a part of the landscape from their view; and the occasional sound of the fall of water was mingled with the twittering and chirping of the birds, as they flew from spray to spray.

The air was fresh, even to keenness, and anyone suddenly wafted to the scene would little have imagined that he was under the torrid zone.
"How different this is from the ideas generally formed of the climate in the West Indies!" observed Newton.