The wind, for the greatest part of the year, blows from between E.S.E., and E.N.E.  This is the true trade-wind, or what the natives call Maaraee; and it sometimes blows with considerable force.  When this is the case, the weather is often cloudy, with showers of rain; but, when the wind is more moderate, it is clear, settled, and serene.  If the wind should veer farther to the southward, and become S.E., or S.S.E., it then blows more gently, with a smooth sea, and is called Maooui.  In those months, when the sun is nearly vertical, that is, in December and January, the winds and weather are both very variable; but it frequently blows from W.N.W., or N.W.  This wind is what they call Toerou; and is generally attended by dark, cloudy weather, and frequently by rain, it sometimes blows strong, though generally moderate; but seldom lasts longer than five or six days without interruption; and is the only wind in which the people of the islands to leeward come to this in their canoes.  If it happens to be still more northerly, it blows with less strength, and has the different appellation of Era-potaia; which they feign to be the wife of the Toerou; who, according to their mythology, is a male.

The wind from S.W., and W.S.W., is still more frequent than the former; and, though it is, in general, gentle, and interrupted by calms, or breezes from the eastward, yet it sometimes blows in brisk squalls.  The weather attending it is commonly dark; cloudy, and rainy, with a close, hot air; and often accompanied by a great deal of lightning and thunder.  It is called Etoa, and often succeeds the Toerou; as does also the Farooa, which is still more southerly; and, from its violence, blows down houses and trees, especially the cocoa-palms, from their loftiness; but it is only of a short duration.

The natives seem not to have a very accurate knowledge of these changes, and yet pretend to have drawn some general conclusions from their effects; for they say, when the sea has a hollow sound, and dashes slowly on the shore, or rather on the reef without, that it portends good weather, but, if it has a sharp sound, and the waves succeed each other fast, that the reverse will happen.

Perhaps there is scarcely a spot in the universe that affords a more luxuriant prospect than the S.E. part of Otaheite.  The hills are high and steep; and, in many places, craggy.  But they are covered to the very summits with trees and shrubs, in such a manner, that the spectator can scarcely help thinking, that the very rocks possess the property of producing and supporting their verdant clothing.  The flat land which bounds those hills toward the sea, and the interjacent valleys also, teem with various productions that grow with the most exuberant vigour, and at once fill the mind of the beholder with the idea, that no place upon earth can out-do this, in the strength and beauty of vegetation.  Nature has been no less liberal