ere eating a red monkey, erroneously called the baboon
of Demerara, an Arowack Indian told an affecting story of what happened
to a comrade of his. He was present at his death. As it did not
interest this Indian in any point to tell a falsehood it is very probable
that his account was a true one. If so, it appears that there is no
certain antidote, or at least an antidote that could be resorted to in a
case of urgent need; for the Indian gave up all thoughts of life as soon
as he was wounded.

The Arowack Indian said it was but four years ago that he and his
companion were ranging in the forest in quest of game. His companion
took a poisoned arrow, and sent it at a red monkey in a tree above him.
It was nearly a perpendicular shot. The arrow missed the monkey, and in
the descent struck him in the arm a little above the elbow. He was
convinced it was all over with him. "I shall never," said he to his
companion in a faltering voice, and looking at his bow as he said it, "I
shall never," said he, "bend this bow again." And having said that he
took off his little bamboo poison-box, which hung across his shoulder,
and putting it, together with his bow and arrows, on the ground, he laid
himself down close by them, bid his companion farewell, and never spoke
more.

He who is unfortunate enough to be wounded by a poisoned arrow from
Macoushia had better not depend upon the common antidotes for a cure.
Many who have been in Guiana will recommend immediate immersion in water,
or to take the juice of the sugar-cane, or to fill the mouth full of
salt; and, they recommend these antidotes because they have got them from
the Indians. But were you to ask them if they ever saw these antidotes
used with success, it is ten to one their answer would be in the
negative.

Wherefore let him reject these antidotes as unprofitable, and of no
avail. He has got an active and a deadly foe within him, which, like
Shakespeare's fell Sergeant Death, is strict in his arrest, and will
allow him but little time--very, very little time. In a few minutes he
will be numbered with the dead. Life ought, if possible, to be
preserved, be the expense ever so great. Should the part affected admit
of it, let a ligature be tied tight round the wound, and have immediate
recourse to the knife:--

"Continuo, culpam ferro compesce priusquam,
Dira per infaustum serpant contagia corpus."

And now, kind reader, it is time to bid thee farewell.