Jamaica - The Traveller's Tree: A Journey Through the Caribbean Islands - page 224

of Accompong rose on its cone like a Biblical city. It was a dark shape against the wastes of turquoise
where the sunset was shaking loose great stooks and sheaves of crimson cloud.
On our last night, the Colonel, at our request, donned his uniform as Colonel of the Maroons. It was a
splendid affair, thought out, I imagine, by himself: a grey military jacket stiff with black braid, a Sam
Browne belt, grey pantaloons with black stripes down the seams, and a helmet the same shape as those
worn by colonial governors. He wore it with a nice combination of solemnity and dash. After a dinner of
eggs, cassava, and yam—the best yam I have tasted—and a pineapple which still trailed its long green
plumes, we sat on over our rum and sweet pimento-wine: Emmanuel, the Colonel, their pretty, intelli-
gent niece, and a few neighbours; going through old Maroon documents of the Colonel's and listening
to his comments. Later we began to sing, and Emmanuel, in a high and lively voice, sang a song with a
sprightly air like an Irish jig:—
'Cheer up, young ladies, and don't be afraid,
Cheer up, my lady, and don't be ashamed.
We have the clarinet and the French horn and the bugle that blow.
On the first day of Christmas, young girl win the race.'
and another, rather sentimental, Tom Moore-ish one, that began:—
'The rain is gathering over the hill, it's time for us to go …'
and,
'When you want to get money to send to the war
They gather up thousands of pound.
The Obeahman visit the parishes then
And drives in a buggy-go-round.'
Prompted, I suppose by the mention of Obeah, we asked him if he knew any African songs. They all
laughed, and said 'Only one, and only Emmanuel can remember it.' It ran as follows:—
'Ho minni wey—oh
Ho minni wey—oh
Ya seki a-brahé
Yekko, tekko
Yekko tekko
Yum, tum sayé,
Aya! Aya—yé!
Aya! Aya—yé!
O—se—oh,
Yekko Tekko,