66 Audubon's Western Journal 



To tell how that night was passed would be 

 more than I can do; Nicholas Walsh and A. T. 

 Shipman became worse; I sent at once for Dr. 

 Campbell and he passed the night with us. The 

 heavy trade-wind from the south-east sighed 

 through the open windows of the long twenty- 

 bedded room we were in, the deep moans of young 

 Liscomb, who, dreaming, saw nothing but the 

 horrors of his father's death, our own sad thoughts, 

 and the sickness of Walsh and Shipman, and our 

 anxiousness, and perhaps nervousness, chased sleep 

 away. 



Morning came, and our friends had to be buried, 

 and when this sad duty was over, we asked for our 

 money, and to our amazement were told it was 

 gone, had been delivered to one of our men. This 

 was untrue, and we sent at once to the landlord and 

 demanded our money. He coldly answered, "I 

 never saw you, gentlemen, when money is left in 

 this house, it is generally given to my charge, and 

 then I am responsible for it." It was useless to 

 explain that we had been unable to see him before, 

 and, at Dr. Campbell's suggestion, we took charge 

 of the man to whom we had intrusted it, and sent 

 for the magistrate who took the evidence for and 

 against, and committed the man to trial. As there 

 was no jail, or place of security in which to confine 

 him, we chained him to a musquit stump, and stood 

 guard over him forty-eight hours, assistance from 



