At our request, the two surviving Amistad captives came to see us, Mr. Parn and Mr. Smith. The former had a pleasant smiling face, but was too deaf to converse. The latter wore a rugged-looking countenance, and after a little coaxing told us something of his early life, dwelling especially upon the reason why the Amistads rose up and killed the officers of the vessel on which they were being carried to America. He said the cook told them that they were to be killed and eaten, and showed them a huge kettle in which they were to be boiled. So they rescued themselves from the sad fate that seemed to await them by slaying their captors, acting on the same principle that Stanley did when the natives on the Congo tried to make “meat” of him and his companions. Chief Geo. Thompson Tucker came to pay his respects. He was educated in the mission and was a pupil of Geo. Thompson. He is not a Christian, but favors Mr. Williams’ work, and renders him much assistance. He wore pants and shoes, and a frock made of country cloth in a country fashion. He converses in English fluently, and sometimes interprets for Mr. Williams. We desired to visit the cemetery, which Mr. Thompson had removed to some distance, that the sight of so many graves of fallen missionaries might not depress the living. The dew being heavy and the “road” having grown up somewhat, Chief Tucker had two of his men go on in advance, and trim off the overhanging branches with their cutlasses, which they used with wonderful dexterity. The cemetery is partly surrounded by a ditch and bank, Mr. Thompson having concluded that this was more permanent than any fence that could be erected. After a little search by the Chief and old Mr. Smith, three graves were found, ranged side by side at the foot of a mango tree—those of Mr. and Mrs. Tefft and Jane Winters. The wood of which Mr. Thompson made head boards, and which he said did not “know how to rot,” has in some way obtained that undesirable knowledge, and even the planks laid on the graves by some later visitor have crumbled nearly into dust. The other graves that were identified were those of Mr. Garnick, Mr. Carter, Mrs. Arnold and Mr. Thompson’s son George, who died June 6, 1853, at the age of six years. Seven mango trees between one and two feet in diameter mark these resting places. To me there was a strange fascination about this consecrated spot, and words cannot express the feelings I experienced as I walked there among the sainted dead in that distant, strange land.