A bit more dusky and pale colours, for this is a serious topic.

For more information about the slave trade itself, please visit my lineart version ( http://www.furaffinity.net/view/572525/ )

I feel free (as a little story behind it) to use a really great poem by Heinrich Heine, whose opus is unfortunately untranslatable; the version I found is not satisfying.
The poem is changed in order to fit for my flibustier character, Michel de Grammont:

The pirate captain Michel de Grammont
Is sitting and calculating;
There in his cabin he reckons the worth
And profits to come from his freighting.

"The rubber is good, the pepper is good,
At three hundred barrels we'll set her,
I've gold dust here, and ivory -
The black commodity's better.

Six hundred zebras, I overtook them
while seizing a Lisboan sloop,
The flesh is tough, the sinews are taut,
Like the best cast iron, it's very good

If only three hundred slaves remain
By the time we reach Rio de Janeiro,
I'll be getting a hundred ducats per head
From the house of Gonzales Perreiro."

Yet, on average two a day will die,
Yet today we were seven shorted,
Four men and three women -- I noted the loss,
'Twas at once in my notebook recorded.

I inspected the carcasses carefully;
For often these rogues will fake it,
In hopes that we'll toss them overboard,
To the waves where they think they will make it.

The Flubustier breaks in, heaving a sigh:
"This evil, how can I prevent it?
This advancing rate of mortality,
Now, how am I going to end it?"

The first mate replies: "It is through their own fault
That so many zebras died on this voyage;
Their extremely bad breath has tainted the air
They must breathe in the cargo storage.

And also some died from melancholy,
A disease that will fatally bore them;
Perhaps some fresh air, some music and dance
Might give us the means to restore them."

Then cries de Grammont: "That's good advice!
Ye old rascal yonder
Is smart like Aristotle was,
The teacher of Alexander.

In Delft, the head of the Institute
For Tulip-Refinement, he never
Had half your brains, despite the fact
That he was exceedingly clever.

Yes, music, music! Upon the deck
The slaves shall all dance in their fashion.
And who won't amuse himself, hopping about,
The bullwhip shall give a good thrashing!"