THIRD JOURNEY 



CHAPTER I 



"Desertosque videre locos, littusque relictura. " 



Gentle reader, after staying a few months in 

 England, I strayed across the Alps and the Ap- 

 penines, and returned home, but could not tarry. 

 Guiana still whispered in my ear, and seemed to 

 invite me once more to wander through her dis- 

 tant forests. 



Shouldst thou have a leisure hour to read what 

 follows, I pray thee pardon the frequent use of 

 that unwelcome monosyllable /. It could not well 

 be avoided, as will be seen in the sequel. In Feb- 

 ruary, 1820, I sailed from the Clyde on board the 

 Glenbervie, a fine West-Indiaman. She was driven 

 to the north-west of Ireland, and had to contend 

 with a foul and wintry wind for above a fortnight. 

 At last it changed, and we had a pleasant passage 

 across the Atlantic. 



Sad and mournful was the story we heard on 

 entering the river Demerara. The yellow fever 

 had swept off numbers of the old inhabitants, and 

 the mortal remains of many a new comer were 

 daily passing down the streets, in slow and mute 

 procession to their last resting-place. 



After staying a few days in the town, I went up 

 the Demerara to the former habitation of my 

 worthy friend, Mr. Edmonstone, in Mibiri creek. 



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