THIRD JOURNEY. 



199 



the end of it. Now, it appeared clear to me that if I 

 went down upon one knee, and held the mast in the 

 s-ame position as the soldier holds his bayonet when 

 rushing to the charge, I could force it down the cay- 

 man's throat, should he come open-mouthed at me. 

 When this was told to the Indians, they brightened 

 up, and said they would help me to pull him out of 

 the river. 



"Brave squad ! " said I to myself, " 'Audax omnia 

 perpeti,' now that you have got me betwixt 



ir rep are to 



take the Cay- yourselves and danger." I then mustered all 



man alive. 



hands for the last time before the battle. 

 We were, four South American savages^ two negroes 

 <from Africa, a Creole from Trinidad, and myself, a 

 white man from Yorkshire ; in fact, a little Tower 

 of Babel group, in dress, no dress, address, and lan- 

 guage. 



Daddy Quashi hung in the rear ; I showed him a 

 large Spanish knife, which I always carried in the 

 waistband of my trousers : it spoke volumes to him, 

 and he shrugged up his shoulders in absolute despair. 

 The sun was just peeping over the high forests on the 

 eastern hills, as if coming to look on, and bid Us act 

 with becoming fortitude. I placed all the people at 

 the end of the rope, and ordered them to pull till the 

 cayman appeared on the surface of the water; and 

 then, should he plunge, to slacken the rope and let him 

 go again into the deep. 



I now took the mast of the canoe in my hand (the 

 sail being tied round the end of the mast), and sunk 

 down upon one knee, about four yards from the water's 

 edge, determining to thrust it down his throat, in case 

 he gave me an opportunity. I certainly felt somewhat 



