In gratitude for her attention I made her a present of a piece of coloured cloth, which pleased her exceedingly. She had probably never before possessed any thing so beautiful; her son presently came to thank me, and very seriously asked me who had made the flowers on the cloth. I smiled at his simplicity, and told him that it had been made by the whites. He answered, still preserving his gravity, that he thought none but God could have made any thing so beautiful. I remained a month in my hut, constantly lying on the damp ground, for I was unable to walk, though I did not suffer very great pain. The month of September seemed to promise a return of fine weather; but appearances were delusive. The rains, to be sure, were not so incessant, but we regularly had rain every day, until October, when it became less frequent. The rain, which poured in torrents, always set in with hurricanes, blowing from the east and south-east. In proportion as the rain diminished the heat increased, and the air became more salubrious. My foot got better, and I hoped to set off about the end of the month. It may well be imagined that I looked forward to the period of my departure with no little anxiety, and notwithstanding all the kindness that I experienced from my old nurse, I was impatient for the moment when I might have the pleasure of bidding her farewell. On market-days I gave her glass trinkets to purchase my weekly supply of rice and foigné, which she made her son’s wives cook for me. She herself brought me twice a day a portion of tau and rice in a wooden platter, and in a little earthen vessel soup made of herbs or pistachio-nuts, to which I added a little salt and vegetable butter, without which these messes would have been scarcely eatable. For a few glass beads, I readily procured vegetable butter, called in the country _cé-toulou_, which, though collected in abundance, is not much eaten by the inhabitants, as they prefer selling it. This butter is tolerably good; but it is necessary to cook it with the food with which it is eaten, otherwise its flavour is not very agreeable. The natives use it for pains and sores. I have seen in the country a tree, which like the cé produces a butyraceous substance; it is called by the natives _taman_. The butter of this tree is of a yellow colour, like ours. It is firm, notwithstanding the heat of the climate, and does not contract any bad flavour. I liked it better than the butter of the cé, which is less firm, and of an ash colour. However, the natives assured me that the produce of the cé is more wholesome than that of the taman, and I saw many who would not eat the latter, alleging that it made them ill. For my part, I frequently ate it and never experienced any bad effect from it.