"Oh, yes, and children too. The women seemed to take as active a part as the men. I saw one old woman run a spear in the back of one man, who was held by two natives, with a degree of violence that seemed far beyond her strength. I thought that all but myself were killed until the following evening. I had been taken to the islet where your schooner is anchored, and where all the chiefs were assembled, when they brought Huzzy, to show me that there was one living besides myself. After an interview of a few hours, Huzzy was taken away to live with Lugoma, who had saved his life, and I was taken to live with the old man who had saved mine. He was so very poor that I scarcely ever got enough to eat of the coarsest native food. I had to labour very hard, although I suffered constantly from hunger, which soon made me weak and extremely wretched. At last, the high chief took compassion upon me, and made me live with him; after which, I had always plenty to eat, and was at liberty to work or not, as I pleased. He was very kind to me in every respect. They have always brought Huzzy to me, or taken me to see him once a fortnight, or once a month, and suffered us to pass the day together." Here Lay's narrative ended. Huzzy told us, that during his residence with Lugoma, his time had been spent principally on the water, going with him in his canoe, which required two to work it. Lugoma was a great fisherman, and distinguished amongst the chiefs for his industry and enterprising character. He would always have enough to eat, if he had to steal it. When Huzzy would complain to him of the hard and laborious life that he led, Lugoma would always reply, that if he would eat he must work. There seems to be no doubt, that the natives saved the lives of these young men from no other motive than that of making them slaves, and availing themselves of the advantage of their labour. At the dawn of day, we prepared to depart for the schooner, and in getting up our anchor, which was a kedge, weighing upwards of a hundred pounds, we found that it was hooked to a bunch of coral at the bottom, from which all our efforts failed to move it. As soon as Lugoma saw our difficulty, he told his son to go down and clear the anchor. The little fellow jumped into the water, which was about three fathoms deep, and in a few moments came up, making motions for us to haul away. He had disengaged the kedge, and we had no further trouble in getting it up. It is a universal practice amongst the natives, whenever they wish to anchor, to take a line from the end of the canoe, and tie it to a tree of coral at the bottom.