_Saturday, September 25th._--I had intended to-day to have gone to Walurigi, but it set in to a wet day, and I was obliged to stay at home. However, I had a succession of visitors, and among them some Bushmen from a long way inland. The boys told me some odd stories about them, how ignorant they formerly were and what strange things they did in consequence. When they first came down to the sea they fancied it was hungry, because the surf came rolling in, as they said, “mouth wide open.” They therefore gave it food to eat. Knowing only the taro root, when first getting possession of a yam, they fancied it was firewood and put into the fire. Some many years ago they came down here in quest of a pig, and while waiting in the gamal their eyes caught sight of a tin with the picture of a lobster outside. Thinking this was something very wonderful they stole it, and marched off homewards with it instead of their pig. Arriving at their village home the chief made a great feast for it, and placed it in the midst of the village dancing ground, and went through the various ceremonies as if it were a pig in verity. The ceremonies over, the chief advanced to the tin, and with his foot, squashed up the tin as if he was treading the life of a pig out, with the inevitable result that he almost cut his foot off. Now-a-days of course they are more enlightened, and the men who were here to-day I found very amiable and intelligent. All “salt water” natives despise Bushmen, and they have always stories to tell of them. There is somehow a natural feud existing between them, but the agression I must say, comes generally from the Bushmen. They do, certainly, very unaccountable things, but they are always forgiven, and their conduct explained by saying, “Oh, they are only Bushmen,” or as they say here “(Taute).” A small vessel passed here in the afternoon, and anchored off M. Moussu’s place “Ia[¨n]a[¨n]qa.” In the evening there was the greatest excitement, the boys returning from fishing saw a boat under sail coming down the coast, and the general idea was that it was Mr. Brittain. I was led into the swim, and made active preparations for his reception, but he never turned up, the sail belonged to some other boat. Heavy rain and strong wind squalls again in the evening.