Pitt’s Island.—Knox and Charlotte’s Islands.—Base Conduct.— Thieving.—Jack and Manuel.—Almost a “dead Nigger.”—Bark “Belle.”— Ship “Boy.”—Wreck of the “Flying Fox.”—Plundered by the Natives.— Hall’s Island.—Desertion.—My Man Friday.—A wet Berth again.—Ship “Hector.”—Anxiety for Letters.—A Canoe in distress.— A heart-rending Sight.—Gratitude of the Natives.—Pleasant Island.—Its Natives.—Murder of white Men.—Brig “Inga.”—Thieves again.—Search-warrant issued.—Property found, Culprit tried and punished.—A heavy Squall.—Strong’s Island. We were now getting down to the more westward of the group, and on Sunday, the 25th, saw Pitt’s Island. This is one of the finest-looking islands of the whole group; the land being higher, with more verdure. The next day we saw Knox’s Island. The natives of this and Charlotte’s Island are now at war, instigated, we are sorry to learn, by the base conduct of an American whaling captain, who has taken sides with one party, and who takes great pleasure in slaughtering those of the other side. Whenever the boats are off after whales, a certain number of the ship’s company remain on board to work the ship, who are called “ship-keepers.” One of these ship-keepers was “Nigger Jack,” whom, the reader will recollect, we shipped at Payta. It appears he was in the habit, at these times, of going down into the forecastle, and pilfering whatever he saw that would strike his fancy. He also was troubled very much with a sweet tooth, and would help himself to the other men’s allowance of molasses, not touching his own. This kind of work went on for some time, and, as the men could prove nothing, they kept quiet and waited, Micawber-like, for something to “turn up.” The opportunity soon came. The boats were all off after whales, and our Spanish darkey was, as usual, spending his time below, when one of the other ship-keepers, going into the forecastle, caught him in the very act of helping himself to molasses from the allowance of Portugee Manuel. He said nothing to him, however, but waited until the men returned for the opportunity of “opening the ball.” It so happened that, on this occasion, the men were down all day, from 7 A.M. to 8 P.M., with little or no food, and came on board, without having fastened, nearly exhausted with pulling, hungry as bears, and in none of the best of humors. Supper was sent down, and Manuel went to his keg to get some molasses for his “duff,” but, to his surprise, found it empty! His Gee blood was up in an instant, and he sang out, “What man been takey my molass?” Some one replied, “Nigger Jack;” and, before the darkey could contradict it, the heavy molasses keg struck him, bim! full in the face. The blood flew on all sides, and he ran for the deck, and, fully believing that he was about to “kick the bucket,” commenced chanting the Paternoster, occasionally interspersing it with exclamations of “Muerto! muerto!” signifying “Killed! killed!” in a most pitiful tone.