The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-03-09
vOODOO RITES IN HAYTI.
HIDEOUS PRACTICES NOT FAR
FROM PORT-AU-PRINCE.
ChiIdren's Blood is ReIIshed-LOup-
GarOu Who Hang Out on the Out
skirts of the villages 10 steal the
IfffTe


Port-au-Prince. Feb. 22.-Five miles
above this city. and at an elevation from
the sea of 100 feet, lies the pretty vii
lage of La Coupe. famous for its natural
bathing pool. fed by springs gushing out
Of the earth beneath great trees Of tropic
character. The city itself is so hot and
dirty that I sought out this cool retreat
with its beautiful views over the sea and
mountains and here prepared to spend a
week ofsest and pleasure.
1t was only the second day Of my stay,
however, that 1 met with an adventure
that not only completely changed my
plans, but transformed the lovely spot
into place Of abomination-at least, for
the time.
had made the Acquaintance OF a
bright young negro belonging to one OF
the first families Of the capital. and to-
Sether We made the tour Of the objects
OF interest in the vicinity of La Coupe.
Mounted on small but easy-riding native
ponies, We penetrated late on afternoon
into the deep valley known as FOnd-au-
Diable, or the Devils Deep" High
mountains rose on either side, completely
shutting out the sun, and throwing deep
shadows across the gloomy vale. In the
bottom of the valley ran a swift-cours-
ing stream, on its steep hillsides We're
perched the little huts Of the native plant
ers, where they cultivated coffee, plan
AT one spot there was an aggregation Of
these nuts, enough to form hamlet OF
perhaps a dozen dwellings, and beyond
this place, hidden from il by a sharp bend
in the trail, around the spur of hill,
was a bit of level land fenced in with
palings and dedicated TO use as a ceme-
terry.
1t was the most grewsome spot my eyes
have ever seen, although the surroundings
were attractive, being so purely tropical:
There was the mountain palm, tall and
slender; the wild plantain, with its red
and yellow cups, above which a stray hum
ming bird was lowering, and graceful tree
ferns spread their lace-like leaves over all,
like a benediction of beauty. But the in
closure was so forlorn with its rotting
fences, its black and moldering crosses,
its sunken graves, that we instincuvely
shuddered.
we were about to turn back on our
homeward journey when my companion
suddenly caught at the bride of my pony
and brought him to halt Look, look
there!' he whispered; there, beneath
that tree fern. Mon Dieu! There is Loup-
garou."
1 looked in the direction indicated by his
trembling finger, and saw the crouching
ngure OF man, creeping stealthily
thlOush tne uhu1ersroWIh, with apparently
a large bundle in his arms. Our approach
had not been noticed, as the ponies hoofs
had gently touched the soft sward, and
he saw us just as my companion pointed
him out. lie stretched himself and was
about to run into the deep forest beyond,
when, acting on the impulse of the mo-
ment, L drew my revolver and shouted at
MIN, IN the Haytian patols, to stop. L
shall never forget the evil-looking face,
with its fire-shOt, baleful eyes, as the be-
ing half turned and glanced at us over
his shoulder He saw my revolver, hest
tated moment only, then, casting down
his burden, leaped into the darkness.
There he disappeared as completely as
though the earth had swallowed him up.
Leaving our ponies in the path, we
sprang through the fence and took the
trail, but halted as we reached the bundle
lQA a tsfaFa fNaa1 aud rsaA he aNTfI
shape no farther. For in that shapeless
bundle, when the outer wrappingS were
removed, we found the limp and apparent
~ lifeless form of a little child.
/ looked at my companion astounded;
but he only shrugged his shoulders point
ed to the earth stains on the white gar
ment of the child, and then backward to
the cemetery, where 1 saw in the gather
ing darkness the outlines of an open
grave
time, that werewolf will return, and
may bring others with him." Saying which
he shouldered the child, and FASTENED back
to the path We mounted at once, and,
with the child before him on the saddle,
he led the way to the hamlet.
Drawing up at the first hut we came to,
my friend inquired if any of the villagers
had lost little one quite recently, at the
same time displaying his helpless burden.
At first the only answer he got was
scowl; but as we were about turning away
young woman came hurrying down the
steep, attracted by the unusual presence
of strangers. No sooner had she seen the
white shroud than she gave utterance TO
wall of grief, snatched the child from
the young mans arms, and fell with 1t to
the ground.
There was no need of an explanation;
she was its mother; only two days prev
iously, we are told, she had committed her
treasure to the grave thinking 1t dead
from mountain fever. The neighbors
gathered about, until there were a score
or more, gazing upon the grief-stricken
mother in stupid silence, but without Of
fering either consolation or aid. We dis
mounted and bent over the pair, watch
ing with eagerness the attempts of the
mother to bring her child back to con-
sciousnesS AT last, there seemed to be
faint flush in the cheek, a little later
culver of an eyelid; then, suddenly, con-
vlusive shudder of the little frame, and
the eyes opened. With bated breath, we
watched this wonderful return of the dead
to life, as at first dazed by her sudden
recall to the world, she had left so late
ly, the little one gazed into her mothers
face Then there was a shrek from the
parent, followed by a low murmur OF
thankfulness, as the child reached up an
to the parent bosom, where it fell asleep
again.
to her hut, further up the hillside, where
we met the father just returning from his
work.
not show 1t, and received the explanations
of his wife in stony silence.
We again FASTENED to our ponies 1t was
then dark, ana we IollOWeQ the trail
only by instructive knowledge of its To-
cation At first we rode in silence, then
| ventured to ask my companion the
meaning Of this scene, of which had al
ready a dim perception, and about which
I perceived he was not anxious to talk
We had then reached the summit of
hill, where, dimly outlined against the
sky, could see the ruins of an old plan
tation house left by the French a hundred
LET US go in here" said my companion.
ST don't dare ride any further until the
moon comes up, for that disappointed
Loup-garou will surely follow us. Here
we can get our back against a wall, and
need not fear him."
Then my companion told me, what I
already had half suspected, that the
scene we had witnessed was not of I'M
common occurrence in Hayti, although the
happy denoument was not often so for
tunate.
The skulking figure in the cemetery was
what the islanders call loup-garou, or
a human wolf, a cannibal procurer for
the priests and priestesses of the Voodoo.
Many of the Haytians, especially in
the mountains and far forests, were adj
dicted to the African superstition of the
Voodoo, Vaudoux or ancient serpent Wor-
ship. The whole island was tainted with