SOUTH AMERICA. 181 



account of the small vampire. He showed me THIRD 



JOURNEY. 



some that had been sucked the night before, and 



they were scarcely able to walk. 



Some years ago I went to the river Paumaron Anecdote, 

 with a Scotch gentleman, by name Tarbet. We 

 hung our hammocks in the thatched loft of a 

 planter's house. Next morning I heard this gen- 

 tleman muttering in his hammock, and now and 

 then letting fall an imprecation or two, just about 

 the time he ought to have been saying his morn- 

 ing prayers. " What is the matter, Sir," said I, 

 softly ; " is any thing amiss ?" " What's the 

 matter ?" answered he surlily ; " why, the vam- 

 pires have been sucking me to death." As soon 

 as there was light enough, I went to his hammock, 

 and saw it much stained with blood. " There," 

 said he, thrusting his foot out of the hammock, 

 " see how these infernal imps have been drawing 

 my life's blood." On examining his foot, I found 

 the vampire had tapped his great toe : there was 

 a wound somewhat less than that made by a 

 leech ; the blood was still oosing from it ; I con- 

 jectured he might have lost from ten to twelve 

 ounces of blood. Whilst examining it, I think 

 I put him into a worse humour by remarking, 

 that an European surgeon would not have been so 

 generous as to have blooded him without making 

 a charge. He looked up in my face, but did not 

 say a word : I saw he was of opinion that I had 

 better have spared this piece of ill-timed levity. 



