“Yes, missus,” and her eyes turned towards where, on the shores of the Caribbean, the Montego Bay dead lie resting, sleeping their long last sleep amidst coco-palms and gorgeous flamboyant trees. Oh, a lovely graveyard, and the sea breeze sweeps across it in the daytime, and by night comes whispering the scented wind from the hills. “Dey catch yous”--she grew excited and slurred her words--“tear yous to pieces.” We are naturally brave. “Oh, Buffer will settle them.” Buffer being the nearest approach to a bull terrier we could get in Jamaica, a powerful and handsome white dog. Again she shook her head mournfully. “Dey tear him to pieces.” But in spite of all we slept outside and she shook her head mournfully, “Poor little baby!” When the duppies did not take us the servants only considered for some reason or other the evil day was postponed. No one liked passing that graveyard a quarter of a mile away at night. Indeed, this faith in evil spirits seems pretty general, even among people who are a shade higher in the social scale than a house servant. When we were at the Hyde and Sam was very tiny, we used to put him in his cradle on the porch outside the front door, and leave him there to sleep in the fresh air. To me one day came the “Busha” of the estate, a brown man, who naturally held a position of authority. “Mrs Gaunt,” he said uneasily, “the baby is alone.” “He's asleep.” “Yes, I see he's asleep. But Mrs Gaunt--we never leave a baby alone.” Then he hesitated quite a long time and added, “it's dangerous.” I thought of what could possibly harm a sleeping baby. We were close against the mountains. Eagles? But there weren't any eagles, and I didn't expect they would swoop down at the house front if there were. Turkey buzzards? Yes, there were “John Crows.” I'd even seen the birds of carrion on the verandah rails. “Oh, the 'John Crows,' I never thought they'd hurt him.” “They won't. They won't touch anything alive. But, Mrs Gaunt,” he sank his voice and spoke very slowly and impressively, “we never leave a baby alone. We believe that the spirits come and play with them and it's bad.” He was evidently afraid that as a white woman I would laugh at this, and he had only spoken out of the kindness of his heart, because the baby was in danger. But, of course, I did not laugh. Why should I laugh at faiths other than mine? And so encouraged, he told me of the spirits he had seen in broad daylight, spirits that clothed themselves as his friends, and only when he came up close did he perceive they were, as he put it, evil spirits.