Good-bye, then, my dear fellow, and please write us a word; we expect to have three mails in the next two months: Honolulu, Tahiti, and Guayaquil. But letters will be forwarded from Scribner’s, if you hear nothing more definite directly. In 3 (three) days I leave for San Francisco.—Ever yours most cordially, R. L. S. X PACIFIC VOYAGES JUNE 1888-NOVEMBER 1890 TO SIDNEY COLVIN _Yacht_ ‘_Casco_,’ _Anaho Bay_, _Nukahiva_, _Marquesas Islands_ [_July_ 1888]. MY DEAR COLVIN,—From this somewhat (ahem) out of the way place, I write to say how d’ye do. It is all a swindle: I chose these isles as having the most beastly population, and they are far better, and far more civilised than we. I know one old chief Ko-o-amua, a great cannibal in his day, who ate his enemies even as he walked home from killing ’em, and he is a perfect gentleman and exceedingly amiable and simple-minded: no fool, though. The climate is delightful; and the harbour where we lie one of the loveliest spots imaginable. Yesterday evening we had near a score natives on board; lovely parties. We have a native god; very rare now. Very rare and equally absurd to view. This sort of work is not favourable to correspondence: it takes me all the little strength I have to go about and see, and then come home and note, the strangeness around us. I shouldn’t wonder if there came trouble here some day, all the same. I could name a nation that is not beloved in certain islands—and it does not know it! {114} Strange: like ourselves, perhaps, in India! Love to all and much to yourself. R. L. S. TO CHARLES BAXTER _Yacht_ ‘_Casco_,’ _at sea_, _near the Paumotus_, 7 A.M., _September_ 6_th_, 1888, _with a dreadful pen_.