THE HOG OF THE INDIES. 
221 
Chap. XIII.— B.P.] 
of ITayti, which has been a little longer under the 
control of niggerdom than yourself. I fear it is too 
late to save you. Nothing but wiping out the existing 
landmarks and commencing de novo will avert from 
you the fate of Hayti. I have no wish to see a the 
peculiar domestic institution ” revived, hut I feel sure 
that you must go from bad to worse, unless some 
means be taken to make your stalwart, well-fed, tur¬ 
bulent negro population do their duty in that state 
of life in which it has pleased Almighty God to place 
them. 
“ Let go the buoy-rope, back turn; is the buoy 
clear?”—“Yes, Sir.”—“Go ahead, full speed— 
hurrah !” We are fairly off, steaming close round the 
long sandy point upon the westernmost extremity of 
which Port Royal is built, and opening out to view 
that long and narrow sandbar, so well-known as the 
Palisades,—the last resting-place of many a gallant 
fellow, whose bones have been picked clean by the 
turkey-buzzard and land-crab, assisted by that most 
disgusting of animals, the hog of the Indies. I give 
him a distinctive appellation, not that he is entitled 
to rank as a separate species from that of his progeni¬ 
tors in Europe or elsewhere, but, because either from 
change of climate, food, or some other cause, no more 
offensive specimen of his family is to he seen anywhere 
else,—lean to such a degree that the back arches like 
a bow, with spindle-shanks, mangy tail, scaly skin, 
debilitated bristles, few and far between, with a long- 
pointed head and snout, hungry-looking jaws, and 
