punished; they can never hope
to see again their own people--indeed, I do not know what they can hope,
but just to find enough yams every day to keep them from starvation. And
in the wet season of the year, which is our summer and your winter, when
the rain falls day after day far harder and louder than the loudest
thunder-plump that ever fell in England, and the room is so dark that
the lean man is sometimes glad to light his lamp to write by, I can
think of nothing so dreary as the state of these poor runaways in the
houseless bush. You are to remember, besides, that the people of the
island hate and fear them because they are cannibals; sit and tell
tales of them about their lamps at night in their own comfortable
houses, and are sometimes afraid to lie down to sleep if they think
there is a lurking Black Boy in the neighbourhood. Well, now, Arick is
of their own race and language, only he is a little more lucky because
he has not run away; and how do you think that he proposed to help them?
He asked if he might not have a gun. "What do you want with a gun,
Arick?" was asked. He answered quite simply, and with his nice,
good-natured smile, that if he had a gun he would go up into the High
Bush and shoot Black Boys as men shoot pigeons. He said nothing about
eating them, nor do I think he really meant to; I think all he wanted
was to clear the plantation of vermin, as gamekeepers at home kill
weasels or rats.

The other day he was sent on an errand to the German company where many
of the Black Boys live. It was very late when he came home. He had a
white bandage round his head, his eyes shone, and he could scarcely
speak for excitement. It seems some of the Black Boys who were his
enemies at home had attacked him, one with a knife. By his own account,
he had fought very well; but the odds were heavy. The man with the knife
had cut him both in the head and back; he had been struck down; and if
some Black Boys of his own side had not come to the rescue, he must
certainly have been killed. I am sure no Christmas-box could make any of
you children so happy as this fight made Arick. A great part of the next
day he neglected his work to play upon the one-stringed harp and sing
songs about his great victory. To-day, when he is gone upon his holiday,
he has announced that he is going back to the German firm to have
another battle and another triumph. I do not think he will go, all the
same, or I should be uneasy; for I do no