The houses were constructed
entirely of black mud, and the streets were narrow and filthy
beyond description. The palace was composed of two or three hovels,
surrounded by a mud wall. In one of these huts the king was seated.
Mr. Goodenough and Frank were introduced by the agent, who had
gone ashore with them, and His Majesty, who was an almost naked
negro, at once invited them to join him in the meal of which he
was partaking. As a matter of courtesy they consented, and plates
were placed before them, heaped with a stew consisting of meat,
vegetables, and hot peppers. While the meal went on the king asked
Mr. Goodenough what he had come to the coast for, and was disappointed
to find that he was not going to set up as a trader at Bonny, as
it was the custom for each newcomer to make a handsome present to
him. When the meal was over they took their leave.
"Do you know what you have been eating?" the agent asked Frank.
"Not in the least," Frank said. "It was not bad; what was it?"
"It was dog flesh," the agent answered.
"Not really!" Frank exclaimed with an uncomfortable sensation of
sickness.
"Yes, indeed," the agent replied. "Dog's meat is considered a luxury
in Bonny, and dogs are bred specially for the table.
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