The answer is easy. As already stated, at this particular period, much unpleasant feeling prevailed on the subject of obeah-ism. In almost every district mysterious deaths had occurred, and were occurring—not only of black slaves, but of white masters, and even mistresses—all attributed to the baneful influence of Obi.
The African demon was ubiquitous, but invisible. Everywhere could be witnessed his skeleton hand upon the wall, but nowhere himself. It had become necessary to make a conspicuous example of his worshippers. The voice of all planterdom called for it; and the myal-man, Chakra, was selected for that example—in the belief that his fearful fate would terrify the votaries of the vile superstition to their very hearts’ core.
The Jumbé rock suggested itself as the most appropriate place for the execution of the Coromantee. The terrors with which the place was already invested—added to those now to be inspired by the fearful form of punishment of which it was to be the scene—would exert a beneficial effect on the superstitious understandings of the slaves, and for ever destroy their belief in Obeah and Obboney.
Under this belief was the myal-man escorted up to the summit of the Jumbé rock; and, like a modern Prometheus, chained there.
No guards were placed near him—none were required to stay by the spot. His chains, and the terror inspired by the act, were deemed sufficient to prevent any interference with his fate.
In a few days, thirst and hunger, aided by the vultures, would perform the final and fatal ceremony—as surely as the rope of the hangman, or the axe of the executioner.
It was long before Loftus Vaughan ascended the mountain to ascertain the fate of the unfortunate negro, his ci-devant slave. When, stimulated by curiosity, and, perhaps, a motive still stronger—he, at length, climbed to the top of the Jumbé rock, his hopes and expectations were alike confirmed. A skeleton, picked clean by the John-crows, hung suspended to the stem of the tree!
A rusty chain, warped around the bones, kept the skeleton in place.
Loftus Vaughan had no inclination to dwell long upon the spot. To him the sight was fearful. One glance, and he hurried away; but far more fearful—far more terrifying—was that which he saw, or fancied he saw, in passing homeward down the forest path—either the ghost of the myal-man, or the man himself!