162 
WANDERINGS IN 
THIRD 
JOURNEY 
The Vam¬ 
pire. 
might live to a good old age, and die at last in peace, 
: were it not that his flesh is good food. On this 
account, the Indian wages perpetual war against him, 
and as he cannot escape by flight, he falls an easy 
prey to the poisoned arrow, shot from the Indian’s 
bow at a distance. If ever he be closely attacked 
by dogs, he immediately throws himself on his back, 
and if he be fortunate enough to catch hold of his 
enemy with his tremendous claws, the invader is 
sure to pay for his rashness with the loss of life. 
We will now take a view of the Vampire. As 
there was a free entrance and exit to the vampire, in 
the loft where I slept, I had many a fine opportunity 
of paying attention to this nocturnal surgeon. He 
does not always live on blood. When the moon 
shone bright, and the fruit of the banana-tree was 
ripe, I could see him approach and eat it. He 
would also bring into the loft, from the forest, a 
green round fruit, something like the wild guava, 
and about the size of a nutmeg. There was some¬ 
thing also, in the blossom of the sawarri nut-tree, 
which was grateful to him; for on coming up 
Waratilla creek, in a moonlight night, I saw several 
vampires fluttering round the top of the sawarri tree, 
and every now and then the blossoms, which they 
had broken off, fell into the water. They certainly 
did not drop off naturally, for on examining several 
of them, they appeared quite fresh and blooming. So 
I concluded the vampires pulled them from the tree, 
either to get at the incipient fruit, or to catch the 
insects which often take up their abode in flowers. 
