As the dry season came on it became colder, and Tommy began to wish for company when he slept, to keep him warm. The negroes would not have him for a companion, for he seemed too much like one of themselves. I did not like to have him in bed with me. So poor Tommy was reduced to misery, as he seemed to think nobody would have him. But soon I found that he waited till everybody was fast asleep at night, and then crawled in softly next some of his black friends, and slept there till the earliest dawn. Then he would get up and get away undiscovered. At other times he felt too warm and comfortable to get up, and was caught and beaten, but he always tried it again.
He showed an extraordinary fondness for strong drink. Whenever a negro had palm-wine Tommy was sure to know it. He had a decided taste for Scotch ale, of which I had a few bottles, and he even begged for brandy. Indeed, his last exploit was with a brandy bottle. One day, before going out to the hunt, I had carelessly left the bottle on my chest. The little rascal stole in and seized it; and being unable to get out the cork, in some way he broke the bottle. When I returned, after some hours' absence, I found my precious bottle broken in pieces! It was the last; and to an African traveller brandy is as indispensable as quinine. Master Tommy was coiled up on the floor amid the fragments, in a state of maudlin drunkenness. When he saw me he got up and tried to stagger up to me; but his legs tottered, and he fell down several times. His eyes had the glare of human drunkenness; his arms were extended in vain attempts to reach me; his voice came thick; in fact, he looked disgustingly and yet comically human. It was the maudlin and sentimental stage of human drunkenness very well represented. I had seen men looking exactly as Tommy did, and I wished these drunkards could have seen him; they might then, perhaps, have become so disgusted with themselves that they would have given up their horrid vice.
I gave him a severe thrashing, which seemed to sober the little toper somewhat; but nothing could cure him of his love for liquor.
He was also very fond of tea and coffee, but wanted both to be well sweetened. He could drink out of a cup. Sometimes, to tease him, I would not put in any sugar; then he would throw down the cup and begin to howl; and he would make the whole place resound with his noise.
He had a great deal of intelligence; and, if I had had leisure, I think I might have trained him to some kind of good behaviour, though I despaired of his thieving disposition. The older he grew, the greater thief he became.
He lived so long, and was growing so accustomed to civilized life, that I began to have great hopes of carrying him alive to America.
Sometimes he would come round the fire where my men were and warm himself with them. How comical he then looked! At other times, when they took their meals, and ate out of a common dish, Master Tommy would join the party; and when they would all put their hands into the dish, he would put his in also, and take a little handful of cooked and smoked fish. In fact, he kept time with them.
But alas! poor Tommy! One morning he refused his food, seemed downcast, and was very anxious to be petted and held in our arms. I got all kinds of forest berries for him, but he refused all. He did not seem to suffer, but he ate nothing; and next day, without a struggle, he died. Poor fellow! he seemed sorry to leave us. I was grieved; and even the negroes, though he had given them great trouble, were mournful at his death. He had hardly expired when the news spread through the village that little Tommy was no more. They all came to see him; he looked as if he were asleep.
It seemed as if we had lost a friend. We missed his mischief and noise; and for many days we all mourned for Tommy, and wished him back among us.