Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1879-08-21
Last of the Caribs.

You have often told me that you know
the island of Martinique. Then you have
heard them speak of the Caravele. 1t is s
wild isthmus. so called by the sailors from
Spanish wreck The sea is always rag
ing wild enough there. All, you should
see the waves as they leap madly on the
rocks. Then they break into drizzling
white foam--sheets furlong broad-and
then fall back in vain. And il is always
going on: il never ceases. There my
fathers house was situated.
But farther down, the country changes
entirely; it becomes perfectly fascinating.
The two sides of the isthmus resemble two
fairy lakes. 1t was for this reason that its
proprietor, the Count de Saint Croix, called
it Beau Sejour-the beautiful home.
The Saint Croix family and ours formed,
so to speak, only one, we were so intimate.
Francis, the Counts only son, was like a
brother with my sister and me.
Any who had seen us, three-in-hand
running, like deer, over the sand, our hair
lifted by the breeze, mingling our merry
laughter with the murmur of the waves,
would have believed that there are some
happy beings here on earth.
Our greatest pleasure was to run out on
the caves, or sand-bars, and a hunt of
shells We left at sunrise, little basket
on our arms The songs of the negroes
fishing in their log canoes, came to us over
the water.
One winter day we returned from run
ming on the sands. 1t was an evening fore
boding storm. Distant ightnlngs darted
across the sky. Julia was delayed by en-
deavoring to tear up from a seafan a shell.
The tide rose until the sand-bank on
which she stood became an island. The
poor girl became alarmed, and lifting her
arms, cried aloud for assistance. Her long,
black braids tapped in the the storm-wind,
and coiled, like serpents, around her neck.
The negroes, hearing the cries, came In
their canoes. Befere tl-ey 1IrtvDyl, rTdnC1S
had swan across, and stood by his sister,
supporting her.
They carried her beneath the palm trees
which bordered the shore. With her arms
eutwined around her brother, she cast on
him glances of love; but from time to time
looked regretfully toward the island.
"Wko will bring me my shells2" she
cried, at last.
And, as if she had power to command the
elementary spirits, there suddenly arose a
deep, strange voice, which exclaimed 4. y
A man of copper hue, grey eyes, bushy
browns, long hair, dripping with salt water,
came forth from the waves, bearing the
wished-for shells.
sFather Sassal" cried all the negroes.
Father Sassa was neither white, mulatto,
nor black. He was of the indigenous Carib
&c family lost rpOnnQnf Of the
original tribes found by the Spaniards, had
escaped the massacre of civilization and
taken refuge among the rocks of our wild
peninsula. But the family had been sadly
reduced under the English rule of the is
land, and Sassa survived. He bore the title
of cacique. though without subject to rule
His name was Sassaggari, but the blacks,
following their custom of giving diminu
tives, always called him Father Sassa.
He had brought the longed-for shells tC
Julia. When he first heard her cry, he hat
plunged into the waves.
stAh! what horrible she'll" l cried
perceiving dark mass in the hand of th'
Carib. s'Why, tisn't worth the pain it ha
cost. Throw it back into the sea, Fathe
Sassa."
ssTo the sea to the seal" cried all tn,
negroes.
But the Carib deaf to these murmurs
advanced with us under the shade of tn
cocoa trees.
sIittle whites, said he, 'tyou love wha
shines and for that reason do not throw
away this shell. 1t is colorless on the sur
lace, but it CLEANS within. The stars o
night have marked its heart -"
- nriQH S6d,
you mean to say that you can see through
the shell 2"
The cacique stretched out hand towart
the last rock of the Caravelle, where hi
little hut cleaned out and vanished ever.
moment in the frequent lightning.
stCome there" said he, ''and you Wi
learn more.
And entering his canoe he disappeared
The lightning grew more brilliant; larg
drops quickly falling announced comm
tropical hurricane. We fastened home
ward, bearing the shell.
The next morning the banana trees beate
down in the fields, the uprooted trees born
afar by torrents, were the only indication
of the storm of the previous night. Th
heaven and the sea rested, calm and beaut
full, after their wild passions had bee
gratifed..
We started for the cabin of Father Sassa
We found the Carib seated on larg
stone before his dwelling, preparing ne'
for fishing. Seeing us he raised his heav
eyebrows; his strange eyes cleaned,
with gratified feeling that we had remen
bered him and what he had told us the eve
ming before.
"Who gave me this twine to mend m
nets with2 2" said he.
81, Father Sassa, replied Julia.
"Who gave me this good knife to cut tn
twine, make the wooden needles, cover m
cabin with reeds, curve my canoe2"
81, Father Sassa," replied Francis.
"And for that, continued the caciqu
''Sassaggari follows you wherever you g
Sassaggari would let the sharks eat nj
before hair of your head should be il
jursd. Sassaggari saw the little master al