Mr. Bushby, The British
Resident, Offered To Take Me In His Boat By A Creek, Where I
Should See A Pretty Waterfall, And By Which Means My
Walk Would Be Shortened.
He likewise procured for me a
guide.
Upon asking a neighbouring chief to recommend a man, the
chief himself offered to go; but his ignorance of the value
of money was so complete, that at first he asked how many
pounds I would give him, but afterwards was well contented
with two dollars. When I showed the chief a very small
bundle, which I wanted carried, it became absolutely necessary
for him to take a slave. These feelings of pride are
beginning to wear away; but formerly a leading man would
sooner have died, than undergone the indignity of carrying
the smallest burden. My companion was a light active man,
dressed in a dirty blanket, and with his face completely
tattooed. He had formerly been a great warrior. He appeared
to be on very cordial terms with Mr. Bushby; but at
various times they had quarrelled violently. Mr. Bushby
remarked that a little quiet irony would frequently silence
any one of these natives in their most blustering moments.
This chief has come and harangued Mr. Bushby in a hectoring
manner, saying, "great chief, a great man, a friend
of mine, has come to pay me a visit - you must give him
something good to eat, some fine presents, etc." Mr. Bushby
has allowed him to finish his discourse, and then has quietly
replied by some answer such as, "What else shall your slave
do for you?" The man would then instantly, with a very
comical expression, cease his braggadocio.
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