VOYAGE TO THE


barefooted, than pass the narrow strait
between Dover and Calais. During a
short walk this morning, an old Indian
with a most woeful countenance told me
he was afraid Potpruan would seize the
whole of us, should we remain much long-
er on Barbarette. This was a most se-
tious piece of intelligence, for Potpruan
in the Mosquito vocabulary, is no less
a personage than Death, whose fell power
oft
 Shakes the feeble props of human trust. POPE.

I was half way on the same road of
thought before the old man opened his
mouth: this hurried me to the end of it
with precipitation.
 Tuesday, 5th.-The night was passed
in my old residence, the hut on shore,
but without sleep during any portion of
it, owing to the vexatious torments of
a vile insect called the sand-fly. Such
now became my anxiety to make our way,