When the duppies did not take us the servants only considered for some reason or other the evil day was postponed. No one liked passing that graveyard a quarter of a mile away at night.
Indeed, this faith in evil spirits seems pretty general, even among people who are a shade higher in the social scale than a house servant.
When we were at the Hyde and Sam was very tiny, we used to put him in his cradle on the porch outside the front door, and leave him there to sleep in the fresh air.
To me one day came the “Busha” of the estate, a brown man, who naturally held a position of authority.
“Mrs Gaunt,” he said uneasily, “the baby is alone.”
“He's asleep.”
“Yes, I see he's asleep. But Mrs Gaunt—we never leave a baby alone.” Then he hesitated quite a long time and added, “it's dangerous.”
I thought of what could possibly harm a sleeping baby. We were close against the mountains. Eagles? But there weren't any eagles, and I didn't expect they would swoop down at the house front if there were. Turkey buzzards? Yes, there were “John Crows.” I'd even seen the birds of carrion on the verandah rails.
“Oh, the 'John Crows,' I never thought they'd hurt him.”
“They won't. They won't touch anything alive. But, Mrs Gaunt,” he sank his voice and spoke very slowly and impressively, “we never leave a baby alone. We believe that the spirits come and play with them and it's bad.”