A DREARY NIGHT AND A DISMAL STORY.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XI, Issue 144, 9 June 1876, Page 4

A DREARY NIGHT AND A DISMAL STORY.

[Contributed to the Evening Mail ] 'Tit had been a hot day— -one of those suit ry, calm days rare iv the West Indies, when not the slightest breeze refreshes, arid, though tfie sun is not shining brightly, the heat is far more oppressive and. exhausting than the fiercest blaze of sunshine can make it. I' ; ha*d .had.a ;hard day's work too, visiting- the hospitals on eight sugar estates— -not very lively employment, seeing that the cases were nearly all fe^er, "dysentery, or ulcerß, all the results ,j of oyer work iv a malarious atmosphere or bad food and worse whter. Hardly a case that was not in the st'nctest' isenae of the word preventible ; hardly' one -hat would have occurred if the coolies had been as much valued or cared for aB the mules and; other cattle, But' : what 'could we expect from a parcel of miserable Hindoos, 1 fed ou rice and a small quansity of salt fish, aud driven out of the hospitals to work in the canefields ? Of course they were npt slaves—they were British subjects, and Britons never, never will be Blaves ! Besides, did we not virtuously pay twenty millions to abolish slavery? dill. no;-^they'were not slaves, only they were compelled to work, oh pain of imprisonment with hard labor, at whatever wages, their masters — I should say ., their .employers— -chose to fix; ohly they were not allowed to change tbeir masters. till tbey had served, five years, before the expiration of swbich term a very large number of them were released from their indentures by death; and they were not allowed to pass even friran hour tbe boundaries of tbe estate t6 vtfhich they were indentured, andthey could be sold with the estate. No, 1 I am wrong, they oould not be sold, but their indentures could, without their consent. They might be sick, but if the overseer or the manager, or the owner thought they were not so sick as to be unable to work.they had to gp tp work. And if any .overseer, manager, owner of estates, policeman, or magistrate found, a coolie: on the road; without a pass or permission from hia employer giving hira leave of absence, dra certificate that he was a "free" coolie, that is, had served his five years and was now entitled to work for himself, he might take him into custody forthwith, lodge him in the nearest jail or police station, arid have him kept there until he proved his innocence or was claimed by his employer. But they were not slaves ; they would have, been muoh more carefully attended to if they* had beeo. But I am digressing. The estates referred to were some 30 miles by Bea from the town where I resided, 7 and; as there was no medical man in the quarter, which was notorious for its urihealthiriess, I was en-" gaged to 'attend the estate hospitals twice ,a week., I, was then a ".* new chum ' in; the colony," and did not know'wnat the work was, or, although tbe salary seemed liberal, I should not not havi. undertaken the work. Twice a week T' bad to go by the coasting Bteamer, which started rat 7 a.m., arid returned at : night, She called off the quarter to which I had to go, but could not get nearer then two miles from the landing-place, partly on account of a har which was; impassable at low water even for a -four-oared boat, and partly from the shallowness of the water outside the bar. So a pole was stuck up in/the mud, to which she steered, and where a small boat waited to bring but and take off passengers. Landing in the early morniug waß not unpleasant (when it did not rain). The air. was \tea\x and cool, and we got in just in time for the , great West Indian meal — i breakfast, which they have there at about, half-past ten. After the day's work was done we had to embark in tbo Small boat and make our way to the pole again. The niggers in charge of the boat made fast the painter to the pole, and then generally went to sleep. We always had to leave the shore before dark', in order to make our way down the river and find the pole, no easy matter if it was dark, when there was nothing on the low line of coast as a land-mark— the whole being a belt of mangrove swamp. Here we used to wait . for from, two to .five hours, cramped up in a small boat. Sometimes we had a companion with whom one could cod veree-— of tener there was 'npne. Buit at the best .it was very tedious, and the flame from the steamer's funnel' was" welcomed most heartily. When she had come witbin a mile or two' the boatmen lit a large torch, which they kept supplied with kero. sine,, and towards which the steamer steered. Once on .board, in a welllighted saloon, with a good bar, and civilised people to talk to, of whom one War' iiite Jto know the majority, the time passed pleasantly enough until we reached our destination. It is .true that - the conversation was apt - to turn on' sugar aud cocoa, just as in some other colonies it is apt to turn on sheep and wool — but then sugar and cocoa were interesting subjects at tbat time, and afforded great scope for original thought. *' But once upon a time it happened that we were' too late for the steamer. Sac had a vexatious trick of occasionally running up from her point of departure very quickly, and aa she never waited tor the small boat, we had the pleasure of seeing her smoke about two miles away when we got out of the river. We had a mile to pull .against tbe tide ; the steamer might bave seen vs — tbe captain eaid he did not, but at any rate she passed on, leaving us behind. The question was, what shall he done ?

There were two other passengers, and they suggested that a sailing-boat, ladenjwith firewood was to start from the j river mouth that night, and that we ] might go in her. We should have ar- j rived in town if all went well, in the early morning. We went to the sailiog boat; she was laden to such au extent that her gunwale was nearly on ; a level with tne water, it was evident v that the slightest swell could swamp us; the owner would not lighten his boat even to take us io, so we declined to go in her. The other two passerjgers being residents in the quarter decided to go back to their bouses. I did not relish passing a night in a place 7 jin which I knew a night would give me an attack of fever, so I told the boatmen to pull me to a schooner which jwas lying off tbe river's mouth, loading with molasses for Nova Scotia. She waß one of those craft which bring lumber and salt fish from British North America' to the West Indies, and take a return cargo of rum, sugar,. and molasses. We soon .reached J the schooner, which I hailed with a loud " Schooner ahoy 1 "I had not, and have jnot now, the least idea what, "ahoy" ■meina, but it sounds very nautical, and - ! I always feel very nautical when lam afloat. I was answered by a gruff i" What do you want ? "..-■■ - * " Ia the captain aboard ? " - " Yes, he is;" y " Can I speak to him ?" " Yes, you can. lam the Captain." . I then explained how I was situated, and aeked whether he would. allow me ,to remain on board all night, and I should be able to get a boat to take me to town in the morning. He told me that if I liked to lie down in a bunk, I could. do | aq, but there was no 'citheraccommodation. His manner was not' j gracious, and' he did not seem £o v delighted to Have my com pany fas yT perhaps expected. However,*; ihe7< i'^Good night*, doctor,'* of tbVboatmen, as they shoved off, made a, wonderful difference. '*• Oh 1 you're a dootor, 'af *?'* ywV' • ''.''' ''- ; '''■' '■'":,' L ;;^ ; y , "Yes," I replied," I unfqrturialjel-y ;&__,"■;,■, ■. ■■ -, - } nnv: ''' Whereupon he began to apologise for.;his, very limited accommodation, and begged me to step down into the cabin. Then he explained to me that it was a. temperance ship, and that *be had no spirits Ton board, or any intoxicating liquor, tb which I politely replied that it did'nt matter in the -least, which was a fib, for though not a drinking man by ; any means, I felt so exhausted; and fatigued that a small quantity of alcohol would have,- been very acceptable. Neither had be any fresh meat. This |I was not at all surprised at, as in the : West Indies meat will not keep through i the' night, and there never iB any meat ; in. a West . Radian house after dinner. However, he offered me some cold sat , beef, -some bisout, and some tea, aod I < refreshed myself tolerably well, as I bad ; not dined. The cabin was very Bmall, i andlitby a smoky little kerosene lamp, ' , and had that;;curipuß smell "all small I cabins thaye; so we adjourned after the ; meal to the deck, and began to talk. He smoked a pipe, aDd I a cigar. I spoil found that he was of a rather gloomy disposition, arid „ although a much younger man than myself, he had an old and anxious look about him. R-H.B. {To be Concluded in our next.)