How well-fitted are the various
brands of Christianity to the particular likings of their
"flocks." The strongest outward manifestation of the religion of
the West Indian black is this boisterous singing. All over town
were dusky throngs exercising their strong untrained voices "in de
Lard's sarvice"; though the West Indian is not noted as being
musical. Here a preacher wanting suddenly to emphasize a point or
clinch an argument swung an arm like a college cheer leader and
the entire congregation roared forth with him some well-known hymn
that settled the question for all time.
I strolled on into darker High street. Suddenly on a veranda above
there broke out a wild unearthly screaming. Two negroes were
engaged in savage, sanguinary combat. Around them in the dim light
thrown by a cheap tenement lamp I could make out their murderous
weapons--machetes or great bars of iron--slashing wildly, while
above the din rose screams and curses:
Yo----Badgyan, ah kill yo!
I sped stealthily yet swiftly up the long steps, drawing my No. 38
(for at last I had been issued one) as I ran and dashed into the
heart of the turmoil swallowing my tendency to shout "Unhand him,
villain!" and crying instead:
"Here, what the devil is going on here?"
Whereupon two negroes let fall at once two pine sticks and turned
upon me their broad childish grins with:
"We only playin', sar.
Pages:
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165