“I should very much like to do so,” I answered simply.
“Our people are very good—you don’t think they can be?” he asked, in a quick way which seems natural to him.
“Oh yes, I do,” was my reply; “I don’t see how they can fail to be so with such a good bishop.” And there our conversation and short acquaintance ended.
CHAPTER XI
DR GRAY ON YELLOW FEVER—MONT PELÉE—THE RED CARIBS OF DOMINICA
Since my object in putting pen to paper is to recount my Jamaican experiences of the winter of 1902-3, it will not be fitting, and it might be monotonous, to describe each island as we came to it. Suffice it to say that as Trinidad is the best off of the British possessions in the Caribbean Sea, so Antigua is the poorest; it has even been necessary to cut down the official salaries. The failure of sugar is the reason of its poverty. The Governor of the Leeward Islands resides at Antigua. We stood 4 miles out from St John’s, the chief town of that island, where heavy seas made the landing most difficult. There was a good deal of cargo to be left at this place, and as we came up the companion after dinner that evening, it was quite a sight to see the tall masts and sails of the lighters alongside, rolling in the dim light, as well as to see huge cases roped together poised in the air, waiting for the right moment when the lighter rose on a high wave to drop as gently as circumstances permitted. On the other side passengers were also waiting for the right moment to land from the steam-tug. Some amusing “deckers” joined the ship at this port; these answer to our steerage passengers. I saw a newly-married couple of blacks come on board, both as well dressed as white people of a corresponding class at home. The woman in white piqué, starched as they only can starch in the West Indies, wearing a much-beflowered white hat, and holding an enormous bunch of flowers. Her newly-made husband wore an immaculate suit of grey, and carried the luggage, consisting of one chair and two basins!
Deckers have no quarters below stairs. They remain all night under an awning, but as their journeys are generally from port to port, their lot is not a hard one. We had brought along with us a pale-faced Irish curate, who was met by the Bishop of Antigua.
From St Kitts a delicate-looking girl came on board, the daughter of a sugar-planter, whose family had been settled some generations there. She amused me by her readiness to drink cocktails at all hours of the day; in fact, she gave me to understand that it was quite customary with many West Indian ladies to drink one before dinner as an appetiser. It is quite true that the enervating climate is most exhausting. Personally, I should be sorry to have to coax a jaded appetite in this way.
We had an interesting personage with us at one time on the E——, a tall, dark-browed, silent, narrow-chested Spaniard, who smoked cigarettes all day. He was suffering from berri-berri, and people said he was the ex-president of a small republic called Acre, which has quite recently been a source of contention between the governments of Brazil and Bolivia. It owes its existence to Sir Martin Conway, of exploring fame, who discovered its resources, and pointed them out to some enterprising Americans. This tiny republic is far up on the banks of the Amazon. Report said that before leaving the scene of his presidency he had feathered his nest, his gains being safely invested in European securities, but so much mystery lies around the rise and fall of South American presidents, that one may unconsciously fall into error in giving too much credence to reports which spread too easily when they concern noteworthy individuals.