Another instance given of the extraordinary treatment the sick and afflicted of Figi receive at the hands of their fellows concerns a native sailor. There was a violent storm, and the unfortunate in question with several others were spilt into the sea, and, as was thought, perished every one. This one man, however, managed to support himself by swimming till, utterly exhausted, he reached one of a fleet of canoes, and managed to pull himself aboard unperceived. One would have thought that his first act would have been to make himself known to his brother mariners, but he was a Figian among Figians and knew the probable fate that awaited him. As day broke the man was discovered; a short council was held, and it being universally agreed that there was something highly mysterious that this one should be saved while the rest, including the owner of the ship, who was a prince, should be lost, and that since he himself could give no better account of his escape than that “he swam,” the best course would be to knock him on the head and throw him overboard. One of the crew, however, presently recognized the wrecked man as a very skilful sailor, and the craft being short handed, it was finally resolved to let him live, provided he at once took the great steer oar and steered the vessel. To handle the steer oar of a Figian canoe is work for a very strong man. Nevertheless the poor man, weak and trembling from his long immersion, obeyed and steered the vessel through a long and tedious voyage, when, more dead than alive, he was carried ashore and housed in a shed. Here he remained till he was nearly well, when, unluckily, on the very eve of the ship putting to sea again he showed symptoms of a relapse. “No one could be spared to look after the invalid, and to take him on the canoe might give him pain and inconvenience his friends; they therefore concluded that it would be the best plan to strangle him, which purpose they, with his own consent, carried out. They kissed and wept over him! strangled, buried and mourned for him; and the next day set out on their voyage.” There is, however, a dreadful charge laid at the door of the Figian sick--a charge which Europeans who have lived amongst them declare to be not without foundation. Actuated by inexplicable motives they will, by lying on the mats of their friends, and by handling their clothing and cooking utensils, endeavour to communicate the disease with which they are afflicted. If this be true the anxiety of the Figian to see a sick relative comfortably entombed is in a great measure accounted for.