"We had on board a freight of coloured cottons, beads, and other trinkets, with hard dollars to exchange for slaves, with manacles to keep them quiet when in our power. That coast of Africa is a deadly, burning place, as we had soon reason to know; but I cared not for heat or for sickness--neither could increase the wretchedness of my own miserable fate. For some days after sailing I began to hope that I had escaped from my tormentor, but one night, on going on deck to keep my watch, as I looked over the side to observe how fast the ship was going through the water, there, on the sea, a few fathoms only from her, appeared that dreadful figure. He has never since then quitted the ship I have sailed in. Sometimes, as the moonbeams played upon the waters, I have seen him following in our wake, with his arms spread out, leaping from the waves and making horrid faces at me. When I have been keeping a look-out ahead, he has appeared as if leading the way, pointing with one hand and threatening with the other, and every now and then turning round his gibbering distorted countenance, his eyeballs starting from their sockets, and his hair on end as I first saw him. Night after night have I thus been haunted, till life became a burden to me, and I should have jumped overboard and drowned myself, but I knew that he in a moment would fly at me like a shark at its prey, and carry me down in his cold clasp to the unfathomed depths of the ocean. I was afraid to ask any of my shipmates if they saw him, for they would at once have said I was a murderer; and thus my mind was left to brood in silence on my awful destiny; yet I fear, sir, there were many of those with me who were likely to have seen sights almost as dreadful. Oh! what a dreary voyage that was. At last, we sighted a long, low line of coast, with the trees gradually rising from the water, and a grey, sandy beach below them. This was the deadly coast of Africa, somewhere about the mouth of the Gambia; but we stood on farther to the south, and came to an anchor a short way up the Gaboon River, our yard-arms almost touching the lofty palms, cotton-trees, and monkey-bread trees, which grew on its banks. It was a beautiful-looking spot, but death was in every gale, and those of our crew who slept on shore died soon afterwards of a fever, which carried off several others of our men. I wished to be of the number, but neither sickness, shot, nor the sea, could have power over one accursed like me.