he musquitoes would permit us. Caroline and our young
brothers were chiefly charged with fishing for crabs, and they always
caught sufficient to afford supper to all the family. But sometimes we
had to forego this evening's repast, for the musquitoes at that hour
were in such prodigious numbers, that it was impossible to remain more
than an instant in one place, unless we were enveloped in our coverings
of wool. But the children not having so much sense, would not allow
themselves to be thus suffocated; they could not rest in any place, and
every instant their doleful groans forced our tears of pity. O cruel
remembrance! thou makest me yet weep as I write these lines.

Towards the beginning of July, the rains showed us it was seed time. We
began by sowing the cotton, then the fields of millet, maize, and beans.
Early in the morning, the family went to work; some digged, others
sowed, till the fierceness of the sun forced us to retire to the
cottage, where we expected a plate of kouskous, of fish, and a little
rest. At three o'clock, we all returned to the fields, and did not leave
off working till the approach of night; then we all went home, and each
occupied himself in fishing or hunting. Whilst we were thus busied in
providing our supper, and provisions for the morrow, we sometimes would
receive a visit from the sportsmen who were returning to Senegal. Some
would feel for our misery, but many made us weep with their vulgar
affronts. On these occasions, Caroline and myself would fly from these
disgusting beings as from the wild beasts who prowled about us.
Sometimes, to make us forget the insults and mortifications we
experienced from the negro merchants who live at Senegal, and whom
curiosity brought to our island, my father would say to us, "Wherefore,
my dears, are you distressed with the impertinences of these beings?
Only think that, in spite of your wretchedness, you are a hundred times
better than them, who are nothing more than vile traffickers in human
flesh, sons of soldiers, without manners, rich sailors, or freebooters,
without education and without country."

One day, a French negro merchant, whom I will not name, having crossed
the Senegal to the station of Babaguey, and seeing our cottage in the
distance, inquired to whom it belonged. He was told it was the father of
a family whom misfortune had forced to seek a refuge in that island. I
wish I could see them, said the merchant, it will be very _drole_.