“They weren’t interested in helping me,” he says, eyes looking toward the floor. “When I came close to them, they began talking to me in a language I never heard before. I tried to tell them I was an American and that I spoke English, but they didn’t understand.”

James can see his emotions getting the better of him and says, “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anymore.”

“I need to,” he says as a tear runs down his cheek. “I was later to find out they were slavers, on a raid to take people so they could sell them at a slave market.”

“When one of them dismounted and drew a wicked looking knife, I knew I was in trouble and tried to get out of there. I turned and ran but was soon overtaken. I fought with them, but they overpowered me. They tied my hands behind my back and with their knives, cut my clothes off of me. Stripped naked, they hauled me up into the back of the wagon. Two other people were there, one was a young girl. I…” Overcome with emotion, he stops his narrative.

James lays a hand on his shoulder and says, “I understand. I’ve run across these slavers before and I know the kind of people they are. You needn’t tell me anymore than you feel you must.”

Dave brings his eyes up off the floor and gazes into his friend’s as a smile comes to him. “That first night was the worse. The things they did to that poor girl…” a shiver runs through him. “Anyway, we traveled for days. I gradually began to be able to understand basic commands. They captured several more, and when they had ten of us tied and naked in the back of the wagon, they made for the slave market.”