On our entering the village we were met by a man who appeared to be the principal person of the place; he was very polite, shewed us through the village, and took us over his garden, where he had some sugar-cane growing; this we admired very much, upon which he ordered one of the finest of the canes to be taken up by the roots and presented to us; we immediately gave him a few buttons off our jackets, with which he was quite pleased. On its beginning to rain while we were in the garden, he invited us into his house, which, from the walls being of wattled cane, looked like a large basket. Rude pictures and carved wood-work figures were hanging on the walls, together with some inscriptions in Chinese characters. On returning to the lower harbour of all, we went to the large village before spoken of, which is by far the most finished of any that we have seen on this island. The streets are regular and clean swept; each house has a neat cane wall, as well as a screen before the door; plantain and other trees are growing so thickly in the inside of the fence, that they completely shade the house. Near the beach were several large houses, in which a number of people were seated writing: on going up to them they gave us tea and cakes, and afterwards allowed us to go over the village without restraint; they were curious to know whether the brig was coming into the harbour or not, and if so, how many days we meant to stay; they expressed neither pleasure nor regret when we said that we were not coming in. In front of the village, and parallel with the beach, there is a splendid avenue thirty feet wide, formed by two rows of large trees, whose branches join overhead, and effectually screen the walk from the sun; here and there are placed wooden benches, and at some places stone seats are fixed near the trees: this space, which is about a quarter of a mile long, is probably used as a public walk. A range of hills of a semicircular form embraces the village, and limits its extent: at most places it is steep, but at the point where the north end joins the harbour, there is an overhanging cliff about eighty feet high, the upper part of which extends considerably beyond the base; at eight or ten yards from the ground on this inclined face, a long horizontal gallery has been hewn out of the solid rock: it communicates with a number of small square excavations still deeper in the rock, for the reception of the vases containing the bones of the dead.