This rascal assured me that, having been captured only a few months before by the _Bonetta_, when he was supercargo of a vessel with upwards of 300 slaves on board, he was not fool enough to try his hand at it again. He stated that the vessel he was now in was his own property. Not being able to prove his vessel Spanish, we let him go, wished him good-bye, and hoped we might meet again. I then proceeded to land “Prince William” at the Penguin. Nearly the whole time we were on this coast we had hard and continued rain--a great damper to zeal and slave-hunting. [Sidenote: Oct. 11.] Weighed in the afternoon and anchored at sunset in Buffon Bay. In getting under way from Rock Cestos, a Kroo canoe got capsized by the tow-rope getting under the bottom, turning three of the natives, with their fruit, paddles, etc., into the water. It was curious to observe the dexterous and expeditious way with which they emptied, and then replaced themselves in the canoe. Two of the men easily righted it, and commenced getting the water out by pushing it suddenly backwards and forwards in a fore and aft direction, afterwards by rolling it broadside, first one way, and then on the other, by which means the greater part of the water tumbled out. The third man swam away to pick up the bales and a paddle, returning with one in each hand; while two of the men held on the opposite gunwale, he very cleverly threw himself in, and baled her out in no time. The other two got in on either side; everything was picked up, and the canoe again alongside in a very short space of time. As the water did not hang long on their black, greasy skins, they, as well as their canoe, looked as if nothing had happened. I visited the British factory at Buffon Bay, which was an improvement on the one at Piccaninny Cestos, really being a very comfortable two-storey bamboo cottage built on a narrow strip of land about half a mile in length, with the sea in front, the river Buffon bounding the north-west. On the south-east is an impenetrable jungle. A black gentleman of Sierra Leone, by the name of Harleston, with a few Kroomen and two or three natives, formed a little colony. Ivory appeared to be the only article received in exchange for British goods. The Resident informed me that good shooting might be had twelve miles up the river, and those fond of the sport should go in a light canoe. [Sidenote: Oct. 12] From Buffon Bay stood well off-shore, and the next land was that part of the coast between St. Andrews and Cape Lahon. When close in-shore we shortened sail to topsails, and ran along the coast, keeping in 15 fathoms water, hoping to find myself at daylight about twelve miles to windward of Cape Lahon Town, the principal place for traffic in ivory and gold-dust. [Sidenote: Oct. 15.]