On the 5th, the most part of our bread being in casks, I ordered some to be opened, when, to our mortification, we found a good deal of it damaged. To repair this loss in the best manner we could, all the casks were opened, the bread was picked, and the copper oven set up, to bake such parcels of it as by that means could be recovered. Some time this morning, the natives stole out of one of the tents a bag of clothes belonging to one of the seamen. As soon as I was informed of it, I went to them in an adjoining cove, demanded the clothes again, and, after some time spent in friendly application, recovered them. Since we were among thieves, and had come off so well, I was not sorry for what had happened, as it taught our people to keep a better look-out for the future. With these people I saw the youngest of the two sows Captain Furneaux had put on shore in Cannibal Cove, when we were last here: it was lame of one of its hind legs; otherwise in good case, and very tame. If we understood these people right, the boar and other sow were also taken away and separated, but not killed. We were likewise told that the two goats I had put on shore up the Sound had been killed by that old rascal Goubiah. Thus all our endeavours to stock this country with useful animals were likely to be frustrated by the very people we meant to serve. Our gardens had fared somewhat better. Every thing in them, except the potatoes, they had left entirely to nature, who had acted her part so well, that we found most articles in a flourishing state; a proof that the winter must have been mild. The potatoes had most of them been dug up; some, however, still remained, and were growing, though I think it is probable they will never be got out of the ground.