A Voyage to Cacklogallinia | Page 5

your Head; no be sadd, you have _bumby grande *yam yam_. [*Yam yam, in Negroes Dialect, signifies victuals.]"
He endeavoured to comfort me under my Afflictions in this barbarous Dialect; but I was so possess'd with the Notion of my being reserv'd to be murdered, that I received but little Consolation.
We marched very slowly, both on account of the Heat, and of the Plunder they had got from some Plantations; for every one had his Load of Kidds, Turkies, and other Provisions.
About Three in the Afternoon, we reach'd a Village of run-away Negroes, and we were received by the Inhabitants with all possible Demonstrations of Joy. The Women sung, danc'd, and clapp'd their Hands, and the Men brought Mobby (a sort of Drink) and Rum, to welcome the return'd Party. One of the Negro Men ask'd Cuffey, why he did not bring my Head, instead of bringing me alive? He gave his Reason, at which he seem'd satisfied, but said it was dangerous to let a Baccararo know their Retreat; that he would tell Captain Thomas, and he must expect his Orders concerning me.
Cuffey said he would go to give Captain Thomas an Account of what had happen'd in this Sortie, and would carry me with him. As they spoke in the Negroes English, I understood them perfectly well. My Friend then went to Captain Thomas, who was the Chief of all the run-away Blacks, and took me with him. This Chief of theirs was about Seventy Five Years old, a hale, strong, well-proportion'd Man, about Six Foot Three Inches high; the Wooll of his Head and his Beard were white with Age, he sat upon a little Platform rais'd about a Foot from the Ground, accompanied by Eight or Ten near his own Age, smoaking Segars, which are Tobacco Leaves roll'd up hollow.
Cuffey, at his Entrance, threw himself on his Face, and clapp'd his Hands over his Head; then rising, he, with a visible Awe in his Countenance, drew nearer, and address'd the Captain in the _Cholomant?an_ Language, in which he gave an Account, as I suppose, of his Expedition; for when he had done speaking, my Comrades Heads were brought in, and thrown at the Captain's Feet, who returned but a short Answer to Cuffey, tho' he presented him with a Segar, made him sit down, and drank to him in a Calabash of Rum.
After this Ceremony, Captain Thomas address'd himself to me in perfect good English.
Young Man, _said he,_ I would have you banish all Fear; you are not fallen into the Hands of barbarous Christians, whose Practice and Profession are as distant as the Country they came from, is from this Island, which they have usurp'd from the original Natives. Capt. _Cuffey_'s returning the Service you once did him, by saving your Life, which we shall not, after the Example of your Country, take in cold Blood, may give you a Specimen of our Morals. We believe in, and fear a God, and whatever you may conclude from the Slaughter of your Companions, yet we are far from thirsting after the Blood of the Whites; and it's Necessity alone which obliges us to what bears the face of Cruelty. Nothing is so dear to Man as Liberty, and we have no way of avoiding Slavery, of which our Bodies wear the inhuman Marks, but by a War, in which, if we give no Quarter, the English must blame themselves; since even, with a shew of Justice, they put to the most cruel Deaths those among us, who have the Misfortune to fall into their Hands; and make that a Crime in us (the Desire of Liberty, I mean) which they look upon as the distinguishing Mark of a great Soul. Your Wound shall be dress'd; you shall want nothing necessary we have; and we will see you safe to some Plantation the first Opportunity. All the Return we expect, is, that you will not discover to the Whites our Place of Retreat: I don't exact from you an Oath to keep the Secret; for who will violate his Word, will not be bound down, by calling God for a Witness. If you betray us, he will punish you; and the Fear of your being a Villain shall not engage me to put it out of your Power to hurt us, by taking the Life of one to whom any of us has promised Security. Go and repose your self, Captain Cuffey will shew you his House.
I made an Answer full of Acknowledgments, and Cuffey carried me home, where my Hurt, which was a Flesh Wound, was dress'd: He saw me laid on a Matrass, and left me. About Eight, a Negro Wench brought me some Kid very well drest, and leaving me, bid me good Night. Notwithstanding