The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1902-03-23

lence. Then the chief, reckoning his
retinue alongside, lined them up.
Me chief" he explained; chief can
not work; chief can not starve. This
one" pointing lean finger at the head
of the stolid line, ''she fish for me. This
one, she tend my garden, grow my
cassava, my plantains, my yams. This
one, she tend my house she cook for
me, she make my clothes. Me chief!
Now which one you say l give up?'
When old Joseph died, full of years
and honors, three widows wept his
loss.
Behold, now, Auguste Francois, chief
of the Carib nation, conquerors of the
Spaniards, the French and the English,
long the undisputed masters of the
Caribbees-Auguste Francois, whose
descent runs straight, without a cross,
from those red-painted, lion-featured
eaters of men, is squatted on the
ground, weaving baskets. No longer
reason to ask why Auguste has lost
caste with mis- people. 1t is as if the
King of England were to go to black
smithing, or the Sultan of Turkey take
in washing. Willingly would his peo-
pie follow the old custom, and bring
him fish or manioc flour, but Auguste
well, there is delightful stuff that
comes in bottles from the white man 8
country, only to be procured by gold
or silver, and gold or silver must be
worked for. They are very good bas-
kets Auguste makes, to be sure; in
fact, the finest in the world. First his
lean, cunning fingers VIII weave the
dried grass into a basket of the ordi-
nary kind, and then, with brown and
black dyed strands, in curious pat
terms: around it he will weave an
other basket, putting plantain leaves
between the two. Impervious to tropfc
showers. water itself may, indeed, be
carried in them.
Back of Augustes hut, under a
rough, palm thatched shed. Auguste's
wife is making cassava flour. Her
unmistakable negro features explain
why Auguste is the last of the Carib
chiefs. BY and by, when he dies, the
people will elect another head man
to represent their side in any dispute
with the government, but the old royal
line dies with this dull-featured weaver
of baskets.
While we are watching his flying
fingers, a French gentleman from the
nearby island of Martinique rides up,
clad in immaculate white. He is not
pleased to see us. and, indeed. starts
to retreat. but finally dismounts and
begs word in private with the chief.
he BISdIu VI SOld IL III ie'hd 40
he talks. and when Auguste returns
and begs to be excused, he is clutch
ing something very tightly. The two
enter the house together. The French
gentleman is about to fight duel, and
has come for the famous Carib charm.
Auguste will undress him, and, with
much ceremony, battle him in mys-
terious decoction, muttering strange
words. Then the duelist will be bullet
proof. In the corner of Auguste's hut
hangs a fine ham. 1t is a present from
the Frenchman's adversary, whom Au-
guste treated yesterday. 1t should be
a bloodless duel.
On our way back to Roseau mes
senger to town from Auguste's Fran
Gals passes us in a great hurry. You
do not see the CLEAN of gold in his
hand. because he is carrying it in his
mouth for safety. He will shortly re-
turn, bearing a heavy burden that
clanks at every step, and Auguste
Francois will give a new imitation of
being drunk as a king"
We also pass the four posts that
mark the former dwelling of Popott.
Before Popott was taken sick it was
like all the other huts. Kind friends
brought Popott food each day. One
morning they found Popott had turned
his face to the wall and left the food
untasted. They brought no more, but
instead each time they called thew
took away door, or shutter, or bit