When the Tarkars first came to Magazine Point all days were alike to them; they went about doing on Sundays as on other days. Some American negroes who had become interested in them and who were really their friends requested them not to work on Sundays but to gather all their women and children and go with them. They were thus introduced to a church. There they were told that the God who lived in the sky had sent a book to the people of the earth, telling them how they must live. Simple and believing, they readily accepted what was told. The Old Testament and the dualistic dogma of a God and a Devil made the same appeal to them that it had to the American negro--there was the ready response of the primitive imagination to a primitive story. In them they found an amplification of the gropings of their own minds into the spiritual. It soothed their sorrows and gave them hope. Their faith became a simple one, and that of the few old survivors is one of resignation, hope, and a perfect trust. Poleete has said: “We know not why these troubles came upon us, but we are all God’s children--we not always see the way, but his hands guide us and shape our ends.” Kazoola, in speaking of the death of his wife and of all his children, likened God to the doctor who “gives us bad medicine--it’s hard to swallow, but the doctor gives it to us to do us good. We don’t understand why.” Though Kazoola has an intense longing for home, he regards his advent to America as a part of the goodness of God and enjoys telling how after Foster had bought him at Whydah, he was stolen by one of Dahomey’s men and hidden under the white house. While concealed, he heard the surf upon the beach. Urged by an innate curiosity about the mechanism of things, he stole from his hiding-place and climbed upon the stockade fence; “I hear the noise of the sea on shore, an’ I wanta see what maka dat noise, an’ how dat water worka--how it fell on shore an’ went back again. I saw some of my people in a little boat and I holler to them. Then Captain Foster spied me, an’ he say, ‘Oh hee! Oh hee!’ an’ pulla me down. An’ I was the last to go. Supposy I been lef’ behind--what become of Kazoola? Or supposy de ship turna over, an’ de sharks eat us. Oh Lor’! God is good!” Mrs. Foster, who always lived near the Tarkars, said they have always been gentle, amiable, and honest and much better than the average American negro; that it was their perseverance and religious zeal which built the several churches which are now at Magazine Point. There was only one among them who proved unregenerate--old Zooma who still lives--but she belonged to another tribe, the Tarkbar, and presents totally different characteristics; also different color, physical development, and tribal marks. She has been seen to make a cross and spit in the middle of it. The others do not seem to understand her motive.