A MIDNIGHT MARCH. I49 



Without a doubt, this was the jumbie that had given 

 both Coryet and myself such a fright. This harmless, 

 pitiful old man, who had approached us in the dire 

 extremity of want, had nearly perished through being 

 taken for a visitor from the spirit- world, which he 

 manifestly so soon would reach. This assurance was 

 not necessary to induce my boys to tenderly care for 

 him, and we soon had the satisfaction of seeing the 

 poor creature resting on the ground in peaceful slum- 

 ber. After this event nothing occurred to disturb our 

 rest, and we all slept well, the spirit laid that had 

 alarmed us; and not one of those to whom this cave 

 belonged in olden time did trouble us. 



We stayed there all the succeeding day, and renewed 

 our search, though unsuccessfully, for the Diablotin. 

 Our guest slept till nearly noon, but when he awoke 

 he seemed greatly refreshed, and strove to make us 

 sensible of his gratitude. The words he uttered were 

 those of an unknown tongue, but we knew that he 

 fain would express his thanks, and tried to assure 

 him that we understood him. 



It was finally concluded between Coryet and Me- 

 yong that this old man was a crazy chief, who, refusing 

 to submit to English rule, had fled to the mountains 

 more than fifty years ago, whence he sometimes vis- 

 ited the Indians of the coast by stealth. For several 

 years he had not been seen, and it was thought that 

 he was dead. He had been insane for many years. 

 Towards night he became restless, and late in the 

 evening he insisted upon going outside. Finally, his 

 desire to depart grew so strong, and his gestures to 

 us to follow so violent, that, after consultation, my 

 boys were convinced that it would be best to follow 



