»i 150 



LOVE AND CANNIBALISM. 



*' Who is that blocking up the hatchway ? " said I, as somednrk 

 body nearly filled the entire aperture. 



Presently the half-naked figure of Sergeant Quacco descended 

 the ladder. He paid no attention to me nor any body else; but 

 spoke to some one on deck in the Eboe tongue, and presently his 

 wife appeared at the coamings of the hatchway, hugging and 

 fondling the abominable little graven image as if it had been her 

 child — her own flesh and blood. She handed it down to the 

 black sergeant, who placed it in a comer, nuzzling and rubbing 

 his nose all over it, as if he had been propitiating the tiny Moloch 

 by the abjectness of his abasement. I was curious to see how 

 Lennox would take all this, but it produced no effect : he looked 

 with a quizzical expression of countenance at the figure for some 

 time, and then lay back in his hammock, and seemed to be com- 

 posing himself to sleep. I went on deck, leaving the negro and 

 his sable helpmate below amongst the men, and was conversing 

 with Mr. Sprawl, who had by this time made his appearance, 

 when we were suddenly startled by aloud shriek from the negress, 

 who shot up from below, plunged instantly overboard, and began 

 to swim with great speed towards the shore. She was instantly 

 followed by our friend the sergeant, who for a second or two 

 looked forth after the sable naiad, in an attitude as if the very 

 next moment he would have followed her. I hailed the dingy 

 Venus — " Come back, my dear — come back." She turned round 

 with a laughing countenance, but never for a moment hesitated 

 in her shoreward progress. 



"What sail become of me!" screamed Sergeant Quacco. — 

 " Oh, Lord, I sail lose my vife — cost me feefty dollar — Lose my 

 vife! — dat de dam little Fetish say mosh be save. Oh, poor 

 debil dat I is ! " — and here followed a long tirade in some 

 African dialect that was utterly unintelligible to us. 



" My good fellow, don't make such an uproar, will ye?" 

 said I. " Leave your wife to her fate : you cannot better yourself 

 if you would die for it." 



" I do n't know, massa; I do n't know. Ilim cost me feefty 

 daller. Beside, as massa must have seen, him beautiful — oh, 

 wery beautiful ; — and what you tink dem willain asore will do to 

 him ? Ah, massa, you can't tell what dem will do to him." 



" Why, my good man, what will they do? " 



