At one end of the chief hall, on a pile of mats, sat a stout old man, with a huge turban and large beard and moustache, and wrapped in thick folds of native cloth. Savage as he looked, there was a good deal of dignity and intelligence about him. Keeping up the character I had assumed, I instantly began to salaam, as I had seen the Moors do, and to turn about on one leg, and then to leap and spring up, and clap my hands, singing out "Whallop-ado-ahoo!--Erin-go-bragh!" at the top of my voice, in a way to astonish the natives, if it did not gain their respect. My heart all the time felt as if it would break with shame and terror--with shame, at having to behave so, and with terror, lest I should, after all, not succeed. The old chief and the young one, with the people who accompanied him, had a great deal of conversation about us, I found--the old one remarking that we had both of us "salt water in our eye," and must submit to the law. Now, by the law, or rather custom, of the Feejees, every person cast on shore on their coasts is killed and eaten! I had numberless proofs of the truth of this. The result of the conversation about me was, that I was tabooed--to be held sacred, as it were--and that my life was to be spared. They tried to make me understand this at the time, and I partly comprehended their meaning. To prove their sincerity, the old chief had a number of dishes of various sorts of vegetables and fruit brought in, with a young pig baked whole, of which he made me partake. This I did very willingly, for I was very hungry, and the viands looked very tempting. When I had eaten a good meal, I jumped up and shook the old chief and his son very heartily by the hand; and then sitting down on a mat, I threw myself back, and began singing away at the top of my voice, as if I had been perfectly contented with my lot. When, however, I got up to leave the house, signs were made to me that I was to stay where I was. This, I concluded, was that notice might be given to the people that I was tabooed, and that they were not to interfere with me, or I should in all probability have been clubbed by the first native I met, who might have suspected that I had been cast upon their shore by the late gale. I felt very anxious to ascertain what had become of Brian. He had not been allowed to enter the chief's house with me, but, as we approached the village, had been led off in a different direction. Suspecting the horrible practice of the savages, and hearing nothing of him as the day grew on, I became very much alarmed for his safety.