When I came into the oven he looked at me, held out his hand, and said, in a low voice, but with a delightful smile, ``Aloha, Aikane! Aloha nui!'' I comforted him as well as I could, and promised to ask the captain to help him from the medicine-chest, and told him I had no doubt the captain would do what he could for him, as he had worked in our employ for several years, both on shore and aboard our vessels on the coast. I went aboard and turned into my hammock, but I could not sleep. Thinking, from my education, that I must have some knowledge of medicine, the Kanakas had insisted upon my examining him carefully; and it was not a sight to be forgotten. One of our crew, an old man-of-war's-man of twenty years' standing, who had seen sin and suffering in every shape, and whom I afterwards took to see Hope, said it was dreadfully worse than anything he had ever seen, or even dreamed of. He was horror-struck, as his countenance showed; yet he had been among the worst cases in our naval hospitals. I could not get the thought of the poor fellow out of my head all night,-- his dreadful suffering, and his apparently inevitable horrible end. The next day I told Captain Thompson of Hope's state, and asked him if he would be so kind as to go and see him. ``What? a d---d Kanaka?'' ``Yes, sir,'' said I; ``but he has worked four years for our vessels, and has been in the employ of our owners, both on shore and aboard.'' ``Oh! he be d---d!'' said the captain, and walked off. This man died afterwards of a fever on the deadly coast of Sumatra; and God grant he had better care taken of him in his sufferings than he ever gave to any one else.