...And the Night Hissed

'It was fixed on a wooden staff, like a totem, and stood at the same spot the chief had been shot the night before. There was an aura of mystery and premonition about it. While its cold, lifeless eyes admonished us for trespassing, they also advocated that we beat a hasty retreat. A warning we foolishly did not heed and its forked tongue, sticking out from a fanged mouth, seemed to mock our decision.'"... And the night hissed"- the recovered, disturbing memoirs of a 19th century British physician, Dr. Reginald Cromwell, while on a slave expedition to West Africa. He and his colleagues found themselves in unfamiliar territory and confronted with a sinister Yoruba tale of a spirit, snakes and sinners. It was all quite laughable at the time. However, as time passed and crew members began to disappear or die mysteriously, skepticism slowly gave way to fear. Here was a bizarre and unexpected predicament where escape seemed impossible and survival very slim. With every strange noise they heard at night, even their slaves grew more hysterical and strained at their chains. Surely this was all mumbo-jumbo? Totally absurd! Yet the ships seemed so far away now!'It was fixed on a wooden staff, like a totem, and stood at the same spot the chief had been shot the night before. There was an aura of mystery and premonition about it. While its cold, lifeless eyes admonished us for trespassing, they also advocated that we beat a hasty retreat. A warning we foolishly did not heed and its forked tongue, sticking out from a fanged mouth, seemed to mock our decision.'