_GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH THE NATIVES_
It was at these times, as I soon learned, that there was much
amusement to be had with these blacks. I learned of their many
superstitions, their ambitions, likes and dislikes and much of the
customs of that wild country that could never be learned in any other
manner. This I learned both by means of questions and by listening
carefully as they talked to each other. Their English was about as
easy to understand as that of the Southern Georgia darkey, when they
cared to talk it.
A "Dodo" they told me--and they believed it, too--is a sort of hairy
bird-beast twenty feet high which either eats men alive or carries
them off to its jungle nest and makes slaves of them. Then they would
name this or that acquaintance and say, "Ah spec' he shuah was et by
a Dodo, yes suh."
Caven, one of our paddlers, solemnly assured me that he had seen a
Dodo. Caven looked much like a Dodo, or some sort of missing link,
himself. He said he was out hunting monkeys and saw one.
"He gi' me scar' fo' true," said Caven, and he must have seen some
weird thing, or dreamed that he did, for his teeth chattered even at
the telling of it. These blacks could talk fairly understandable
English when it was necessary for them to make themselves clear to us.
Otherwise they could profess almost absolute ignorance of the
language, and among themselves they frequently talked a jargon that
would defy any linguist to interpret.
Our men soon formed themselves into cliques and they stuck to these
groupings throughout the long trip. The Bovianders kept by themselves;
the Berbicans (negroes from Berbice) by themselves; and the
Demerarians (who believed themselves to be the salt of the earth)
likewise flocked together. We had one Barbadian negro. Now to a
British Guiana darkey, a darkey from Barbados--one of the Leeward
Islands--is the essence of laziness and good-for-nothingness. I think
the British Guiana darkey is right. I found that Caven and his brother
Berbicans were really the best of the lot. In every test of strength,
bravery, skill and endurance, they led the other blacks.
I really did not get my initiation into the mysteries of hammock
sleeping in the tropics until the second night because on the first
night I tumbled in about three in the morning too tired to know
whether I was in a hammock or a feather bed. But on this second night
I found myself doubled up like a crescent moon. I twisted and squirmed
and wriggled about in my fantastic debut into the brotherhood of
hammock sleepers before I discovered that the trick was simple enough,
once you got on to it, that of sleeping diagonally across it from head
to foot.
Having made this discovery I arose and got out the victrola we bought
in Georgetown. It was a small, cheap one, but the best investment I
ever made. I don't know what induced me to do this, but with a large
assortment of records that machine drove away gloom and dull care
through many and many a dreary evening.
The blacks enjoyed it immensely, and it seemed strange to be mingling
the voices of our opera singers with the screech of monkeys and the
howls of red baboons and piping of strange night birds in the tropical
jungle.
The camp fire died low, at last. Fresh lanterns were lighted and the
men prepared for sleep. This was no simple matter to them. To me it
was the most astonishing sight I had witnessed. They made ready for
bed by putting on all of the clothing they possessed. Then they
wrapped cloths around their hands, feet and necks. Some even pulled
bags down over their heads and tied them. The "wealthy" blacks had
bags for each foot. Our empty flour bags became grand prizes to be
used for this purpose, which we awarded to the best workers.
By the faint camp fire light and flicker of lanterns those natives
certainly did look queer, like fantastic goblins, all muffled up.
There was little that seemed human about them as they clambered into
their hammocks and rolled themselves up, pulling over the flaps until
quite lost to view.
"Does it get so cold at night that we have to wrap up like that?" I
asked Jimmy.
"No suh, dey's feered o' vampire bats. That there is a _part_
protection."
I couldn't get the "part protection" meaning of it, and all Jimmy
would explain was that they had some sort of superstitious "voo-doo"
rigmarole performances to keep away the vampires.
I was quite excited about it. From early boyhood I had read about the
deadly vampire bats that come upon you when you are sleeping and suck
your life blood away. Secretly I hoped that I would be bitten by one
so that I could boast of it when I got back home.
The blacks were asleep. By virtue of being a sort of aide-de-camp
Jimmy was allowed to swing his hammock in a corner of our shelter. He
insisted that the lantern be kept burning all night.
"No need of it," I told him.
"Yes suh, they is, Mister Laver," (which was the best he could do in
the way of pronouncing my name). "Ef yo' don' bu'n a lantum all night
yo' will shuah be annoyed."
"Annoyed?" I laughed.
"Uh, huh, annoyed by vampires," he answered, very solemnly.
But I couldn't sleep with the lantern light in my eyes and so blew out
the light. Several times in the night, poor scared Jimmy tried to
light it, but I yelled at him.
Neither Lewis nor myself was ever bitten by a vampire. Sometimes one
would alight on my hammock, but fly away without trying to bite me.
Yet, despite their great care, our blacks were frequently bitten. They
would become restless in the night, kick off some of their wrappings
and then the vampires would get at them.
I have heard that vampires are deadly. I never knew personally of a
fatal case. I do know that they always pick out a blood vessel for
their biting spot and that they never awaken the sleeper. The more
blood they draw, the sounder is the sleep of the victim and the bite
does not become painful until the next day.
I should say that our crew of blacks must have lost, among them, a
couple of quarts of blood during the trip. Some of them were quite
lame and sore and a bit weakened as a result, but that was all. As
near as I can figure it out the vampires prefer the blood from
gentlemen of color rather than from pale-faced Americans.