the length of my letter, into which, believe
me, nothing but the extreme importance of
the subject could ever have betrayed me,

I remain, with great respect,

Your obedient Servant,

BRIDGET STARTLES.

ON THE WEST AFRICAN COAST.

WHEN Brown and I planned our excursion
up the Ogbomoshaw river, we intended to
start from and return, to the town of the
same name, where I had vegetated for two
months. This plan was, however, modified
by the suggestion of Quobna, that there were
"plenty patacoo " in the track of land lying
between the Ogbomoshaw and the river
Saccoom. So we resolved to extend our journey
to go up one river, traverse the intervening
country, and then descend the Saccoorn. By
this means also, I should meet my American
friend, Captain Smart, and could return with
him, by sea, to Oke Amolo.

I had learnt by this time to rely very
much on my native servant, Quobna. And
yet, I must confess, that I cannot rely on
his honesty, and I have no belief at all in his
veracity. Moreover, he really has no idea
of either cleanliness or decency, as we
understand those virtues in England. He would
and does rob me himself, and lets others rob
me; not, however, to a large extent or of
valuable property. He will tell me one lie,
or fifty, in the unhesitating manner peculiar
to the African of the West Coast. When I
hired him at Oke Amolo, his entire costume,
and all his worldly wealth, consisted of the
one cotton cloth, or remâl, in which he was
girded.

My first act was to procure him a
complete suit of European clothes; consequently
for some days he was unable to bestow any
attention upon me, his whole time being
taken up in dressing himself and walking
about the town. When the novelty wore off
he began to find his new costume hot and
inconvenient, and resolved to discard it. This
I would not permit, but Quobna was resolved
not to wear his clothes when he could avoid
so doing; as soon, therefore, as he left my
presence he took them off, folded them in a
neat parcel, which he left in the corridor, at
my door, and shuffled into them when I again
called him.

At mess he was always very attentive, and
seemed to guess from a look the thing I
wanted. But the moment my head was
turned he snatched my plate, the contents of
which he crammed into his mouth with his
fingers.

These are trials, certainly; and then he had
a pertinacious way of standing still, and not
doing the thing I told him, which irritated
me at first.

A few days after my arrival at Oke Amolo,
I opened my eyes in the morning to see an
enormous black spider, the body of which, to
my excited imagination, looked as large as a
breakfast-plate, and the legs like the arms of a
windmill, hanging by its almost
imperceptible thread within, a few inches of iny
face.

"Quobna! " I shouted, " take away this
spider — kill this spider!"

"No, massa," answered Quobna, standing
calmly at the foot of the bed, and showing
all his teeth, " no good for you kill dat
spider!"

"Give me something to kill it, I tell
you!"

"No, massa; spider no eat massa —
cockroach eat massa; spider eat cockroach!"

Quobna was right. From that day we
cherished the spider, which most effectually
guarded me from the detestable cockroaches.

Indeed, Quobna is always right when he
says, " no good for massa do dat "—"no good
for you," is his strongest and most urgent
remonstrance, and one which I have seldom
neglected without having afterwards cause
for regret. I don't know why I am not angry
at Quobna's faults, but the fact is I liked his
black, shining skin, and his white teeth, and
his droll, handy ways from the first; his faults
seemed those of the untaught child, and could
not be visited with a more severe punishment
than a box on the ears. Then, too, he
nursed me through my first fever, tenderly,
like a woman; and has stood between me
and grim death pretty often ever since then.

If poor M—had had a native servant who
cared for him, he would not have starved at
Ogbomoshaw. Quobna would have found
out and told me, either that the headman
was resolved to extort an exorbitant price for
the necessary articles of food, or that the
imposition must be submitted to, or else that
the man was unfriendly, and according to
his disposition, must be coaxed or threatened.

I don't know in what capacity Quobna does
not serve me. He is my body servant when
we are in garrison; cook and housekeeper,
and interpreter and factotum, when I travel.
Quobua is great in native dishes, and it may
be well to give the epicure a short account of
the dainties a native cook will prepare for
him on the West Coast. There are katakyms,
or the meat taken from the claws of the land-
crab and mixed with red peppers, tomatos,
shallots, and palm-oil, and baked in the
shell.

Kinhams are eaten cold, and are simply
fish fried in palm-oil with pounded red
peppers. Kikee consists of fish or flesh cut
very small—minced, in fact, to a pulp—mixed
with okroes, shallots, and tomatos, and stewed
in a little butter. Kikee is always eaten
from the black pot in which it is made.

Black soup is made of snails, or deer, or
bush-pig, or chicken, and palm-oil; not forgetting
enough red peppers to set your mouth
on fire. Sometimes in this soup the ground
nut is substituted for palm-oil.