Partly to the machinations of our friend Quilp and the irritable and proud disposition of the people, who considered that the sultan was humiliated by listening to reason and remonstrance, we were more than once very near coming to blows. At last every thing was arranged amicably; and just before starting, the prime minister, Quilp, and a large party of chiefs, condescended to pay a visit to the ship. To guard against treachery, for Quilp was equal to any thing, the marines were kept under arms, and supplied with ball cartridges. The ship was soon crowded with chiefs, armed to the teeth, and accompanied by men with muskets, spears, and shields. It certainly did not look like a very amicable visit on their part, or a very friendly reception on ours; but the ship wore a very gay appearance. The guns, nettings, and booms were covered with the chiefs and attendants dressed in very gay colours. Groups of them sat down on the decks, and made their remarks upon what they beheld; while numbers prowled about up and down, examining, peeping, and wondering. We amused them with firing congreve rockets, guns, &c., which gave them some idea of our value, and we therefore combined instruction with amusement. They departed highly pleased and astonished, and it was evident that we were some degrees higher in the estimation of Quilp himself. The prahu ordered to pilot us having come alongside, we hoisted her up abaft, and took the people on board, and then made sail for the hitherto unknown territory of Panti river. We anchored off the main land on the 25th December, that we might discover the mouth of the river, which was unknown to us. Our Christmas-day was not a very happy one; we did nothing but drink to the hopes of a better one the ensuing year. On the following day we weighed, and moved some distance up the river, and then anchored, waiting the return of the prahu, which had been despatched up to the town the night before. We had, by the means of warping and towing, gained about fifteen miles up the river, when we found that it divided into two branches, and, not knowing which branch to take, we had anchored, waiting the return of the prahu. As she, however, did not make her appearance, although she had had quite sufficient time allowed her, the boats were therefore manned and armed, and we started in search of the town Gonong Tabor. As bad luck would have it, we chose the left branch of the river, and, after two days' unsuccessful search, came back just as we went, but not quite so fresh as when we started. The prahu had not yet returned, so, taking a new departure, we proceeded up the right branch. This proved a fine broad river; one portion of it, studded with small islands, was very picturesque. We soon hove in sight of what appeared to be a town, although there were no signs of life visible. It was built on the left side of the river on two small hills, but we heard no gongs or tomtoms sounding, the usual alarm of all the Malay