SOUTH AMERICA. 243 



The people now dragged us above forty yards 

 on the sand : it was the first and last time I was 

 ever on a cayman's back. Should it be asked, 

 how I managed to keep my seat, I would answer, 

 I hunted some years with Lord Darlington's fox 

 hounds. 



After repeated attempts to regain his liberty, 

 the cayman gave in, and became tranquil through 

 exhaustion. I now managed to tie up his jaws, 

 and firmly secured his fore-feet in the position 

 I had held them. We had now another severe 

 struggle for superiority, but he was soon over- 

 come, and again remained quiet. While some 

 of the people were pressing upon bis head and 

 shoulders, I threw myself on his tail, and by 

 keeping it down to the sand, prevented him from 

 kicking up another dust. He was finally conveyed 

 to the canoe, and then to the place where we 

 had suspended our hammocks. There I cut his 

 throat; and after breakfast was over, commenced 

 the dissection. 



Now that the affray had ceased, Daddy Quashi 

 played a good finger and thumb at breakfast ; he 

 said he found himself much revived, and became 

 very talkative and useful, as there was no longer 

 any danger. He was a faithful, honest negro. 

 His master, my worthy friend Mr. Edmonstone, 

 had been so obliging as to send out particular 

 orders to the colony, that the Daddy should attend 

 me all the time I was in the forest. He had lived 



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