I found the men curing the fish as usual. Everything looked perfectly familiar to me. Some were scolding the natives for their laziness and not bringing the fish to the pots, as they wanted them; others were dodging the smoke and steam from the pots, with an occasional oath, and trying to get a snuff of pure air; while the men to the windward pots, though free from the other annoyances, were compelled to take a double share of mosquitoes, which was a fair offset to the grievances of the others. These, with a few of Job’s comforts; dreadful sores occasioned by frequently burning a poison wood called by the natives--see-nu, make up some of the rare pleasures of the shore’s crew on a beche-le-mer voyage. As the men on shore are obliged to stand watch and watch, I turned in to the berth of one of my shipmates who had the first watch at the pots, and slept as sound and as well, perhaps, as anyone else would have done in a savage land with a host of savage mosquitoes singing about his ears. I turned out about midnight, sauntered about the beche-le-mer house until nearly daylight, and then made my way back again to the Boo-re. I soon found on nearing the house, by seeing the torches about the oven, and also by the scent of their cooked flesh, that their feast had begun; and on my arrival I found they were nearly done. It was soon reported to the chiefs that a white man was at the door, and after some enquiry I was invited to the feast. Being well acquainted with the King, as well as Sina-beatee with whom I had supped the evening previous, I felt somewhat at home and took a seat beside the last named personage. It was not yet daylight and there was no light in the house except a small fire kept burning at each of the three doors to keep out the mosquitoes, which served for little or no other purpose. I had been seated but a moment or two when I heard the Chief Sina-beatee (who was kept on board the ship as a hostage for the men on shore who were getting a cargo for the ship, but who had been released by the Captain on this occasion the evening previous), say to the King “Had we not better give the white man something to eat?” “Yes,” said the King, “you can send and get him some yam, for he will not eat our meat.” Sina-beatee replied, “I know he will not, but I consider the meat by far the best and as a token of good will, having received presents from him, I wish to present him some.” The King after a mute silence of a moment, told one of his ki-sees or slaves to give the white chief (allowing me that title in consideration of the respect shown me by Sina-beatee) the best piece which was left, it being nearly all eaten up. He went to the centre of the Boo-re where lay some unbroken bunches of meat, the savages being placed generally on the sides of the room, and selected a piece, telling the King what it was before removing it. The King said it was “slave’s meat,” which he regretted, saying to