sed to save him, he forced his rescuer to fly.
And well was it he did so. Within a minute, a tremendous blast shook
the earth, _and the prediction of the Matacan wizard was
accomplished_! Not even the red coals of my dwelling smouldered on the
earth. Every thing was swept as by the breath of a whirlwind. My
terrified boy, bleeding at nose and ears, was rescued from the ruins
of a shallow well in which he fortunately fell. The bamboo sheds,
barracoons, and hovels,--the _adobe_ dwelling and the comfortable
garden--could all spring up again in a short time, as if by
enchantment,--but my rich stuffs, my cottons, my provisions, my arms,
my ammunition, my capital, were dust.

In a few hours, friends crowded round me, according to African custom,
with proffered services to rebuild my establishment; but the heaviest
loss I experienced was that of the rice designed for the voyage, which
I could not replace in consequence of the destruction of my
merchandise. In my difficulty, I was finally obliged to swap some of
my two hundred and twenty negroes for the desired commodity, which
enabled me to despatch the Feliz, though I was, of course, obliged to
abandon the voyage in her.

My mind was greatly exercised for some time in endeavors to discover
the origin of this conflagration. The blaze was first observed at the
top of one of the gable ends, which satisfied Ali-Ninpha as well as
myself that it was the work of a malicious incendiary. We adopted a
variety of methods to trace or trap the scoundrel, but our efforts
were fruitless, until a strange negro exhibited one of my
double-barrelled guns for sale at a neighboring village, whose chief
happened to recognize it. When the seller was questioned about his
possession of the weapon, he alleged that it was purchased from inland
negroes in a distant town. His replies were so unsatisfactory to the
inquisitive chief, that he arrested the suspected felon and sent him
to Kambia.

I had but little remorse in adopting any means in my power to extort a
confession from the negro, who very soon admitted that my gun was
stolen by a runner from the wizard of Matacan, who was still hanging
about the outskirts of our settlement. I offered a liberal reward and
handsome bribes to get possession of the necromancer himself, but such
was the superstitious awe surrounding his haunt, that no one dared
venture to seize him in his sanctuary, or seduce him within reach of
my revenge. This, however, was not