“After dinner we went with him and five or six people, his attendants, toward the place where Poulaho’s mourning ceremony was transacted, the last time we were at Mooa; but we did not enter the inclosure. Every person who went with us, had the mat tied over his cloth, and some leaves about the neck, as had been done on the former occasion; and when we arrived at a large open boat-house, where a few people were, they threw away their leaves, sat down before it, and gave their cheeks a few gentle strokes with the first; after which they continued sitting for about ten minutes, with a very grave appearance, and then dispersed without having spoken a single word. This explained what Poulaho had mentioned about _Tooge_; though, from the operation only lasting a few seconds, he had not been observed to perform it. And this seems to be only a continuation of the mourning ceremony by way of condolence. For, upon inquiring on whose account it was now performed, we were told that it was for a chief who had died at Vavavoo some time ago; that they had practised it ever since, and should continue to do so for a considerable time longer. “In the evening we had a pig dressed as the hog, with yams and cocoa-nuts, brought for supper; and Futtafaihe finding that we did not like the scruples they had made before, to accept of any part of the entertainment, asked us immediately to share it, and give it to whom we pleased. When supper was over, abundance of cloth was brought for us to sleep in; but we were a good deal disturbed by a singular instance of luxury, in which their principal men indulge themselves, that of being beat while they are asleep. Two women sat by Futtafaihe and performed this operation, which is called _tooge tooge_, by beating briskly on his body and legs with both fists as on a drum, till he fell asleep, and continuing it the whole night with some short intervals. When once the person is asleep they abate a little in the strength and quickness of the beating; but resume it, if they observe any appearance of his awaking. In the morning, we found that Futtafaihe’s women relieved each other, and went to sleep by turns. In any other country it would be supposed that such a practice would put an end to all rest; but here it certainly acts as an opiate, and is a strong proof of what habit may effect. The noise of this, however, was not the only thing that kept us awake; for the people who passed the night in the house, not only conversed amongst each other frequently, as in the day, but all got up before it was light, and made a hearty meal on fish and yams, which were brought to them by a person who seemed to know very well the appointed time for this nocturnal refreshment.