This question having been settled, Karema got up from his bed and led Tom and me to a small enclosure in the village just finished, in which was a new hut which had never been used, and the materials for building others. This he said should now be mine; and then, saying he would send food and drink to the hut in which I had passed the previous night, he retired to his own quarters.
When Tom and I were again alone in our hut all was quiet, the whole population of the village apparently being engaged in sleeping off the effects of the day’s rejoicings. Tom said, “All bery good, massa. One time English ship come you catch; now s’pose lib here very good.”
“That’s all right, Tom; but suppose no English ship comes, how then?”
“No good s’pose bad ting,” said Tom, who was rapidly remembering his English, and who now told me that he had been for a short time on board an English ship as a pledge for goods with which his father had been trusted, and had there learned to speak it “all proper.”
With much difficulty he also explained to me what the ceremony of exchanging blood would be; and when I said I did not want a black wife, he said, “How be dat? S’pose no wife lib, who make chop? who make fire, bring water—who do all ting for hut?”
“Yes, Tom; but a woman can do all that without being my wife. Your father has given me plenty of cloth and beads; cannot I give some to people to do those things for me?”
KAREMA.
Page 154.