ets, and the bands played the Dead March. The
service was read, the volleys were fired over the grave, and with
oppressed feelings we returned to the boats and pulled on board.

It then appeared to me, and to a certain degree I was correct, that as
soon as we had paid our last respects to his remains, we had also
forgotten our grief. The yards were again squared, the ropes hauled
taut, working dresses resumed, and all was activity and bustle. The
fact is, that sailors and soldiers have no time for lamentation, and
running as they do from clime to clime, so does scene follow scene in
the same variety and quickness. In a day or two, the captain appeared
to be, although he was not, forgotten. Our first business was to
_water_ the ship by rafting and towing off the casks. I was in charge
of the boat again, with Swinburne as coxswain. As we pulled in, there
were a number of negroes bathing in the surf, bobbing their woolly heads
under it, as it rolled into the beach. "Now, Mr Simple," said
Swinburne "see how I'll make them _niggers_ scamper." He then stood up
in the stern sheets, and pointing with his finger, roared out, "A shark!
a shark!" for the beach, puffing and blowing, from their dreaded enemy;
nor did they stop to look for him until they were high and dry out of
his reach. Then, when we all laughed, they called us `_all the hangman
tiefs_,' and every other opprobrious name which they could select from
their vocabulary. I was very much amused with this scene, and as much
afterwards with the negroes who crowded round us when we landed. They
appeared such merry fellows, always laughing, chattering, singing and
showing their white teeth. One fellow danced round us snapping his
fingers and singing songs without beginning or end. "Eh, massa, what
you say now? Me no slave--true Barbadian born, sir, Eh!

"Nebba see de day
Dat Rodney run away,
Nebba see um night
Dat Rodney cannot fight.

"Massa, me free man, sar. Suppose you give me pictareen, drink massa
health.

"Nebba see de day, boy,
Pompey lickum de Caesar.

"And you nebba see de day dat de Grasshopper run on de Warrington."

"Out of the way, you nigger!" cried one of the men who was rolling down
a cask.

"Eh! who you call nigger? Me free man, and true Barbadian born. Go
along, you man-of-war man.

"Man-of-war, buccra,
Man-of-war, buccra.
He de boy for me;
Sodger, buccra,
Sodger, buccra,
Nebba, nebba do.
Nebba,