NATIVES ON BOARD.

August 18th.

The boisterous state of the weather did not prevent the natives from repeatedly coming off to us with various articles of barter; and we were even visited by a party of seven men from Tissot Island, who paddled up on a catamaran five or six miles to windward against a strong breeze and current.  After some little persuasion, several of them were induced to come on board and were shown round the ship, presented with various articles, and dressed out with scraps of clothing of every description.  At first they showed symptoms of uneasiness, and made frequent protestations of friendship, as if the circumstance of our repeating them gave increased confidence.  Their mode of salutation or expression of friendship consists in first touching the nose with the forefinger and thumb of one hand, and then pinching the skin on each side of the navel with the other, calling out at the same time, magasuga!  This habit resembles on one hand that of rubbing noses, so general in Polynesia—­and on the other, the custom of pinching the navel and repeating the name for that part, practised by the islanders of Torres Strait.  At length our visitors withdrew, well pleased with their reception, during which their common exclamation indicative of surprise and delight, an ao long drawn out, was in constant requisition.

August 19th.

A quantity of cooked yams in baskets and large earthen pots was brought off today by a party of natives, as if in acknowledgment of our civility to those whom we had invited on board yesterday.  Nothing was asked for in return—­a very unusual circumstance—­and that it was intended as a present was further shown by their leaving a proportionate share on board the Bramble, and immediately pushing off for the Rattlesnake with the remainder, explaining that it was intended for us and could not be sold.

The weather being now favourable for communication with the shore, the two cutters were manned and armed for this purpose, and sent away in charge of Lieutenant Simpson, and, as usual, I was one of the volunteers who joined the party.  Two of the natives gladly went in one of the boats—­the same two who had previously invited us onshore, as if to return our hospitality and point out the fresh water about which we had made repeated inquiries, our stock of that all-essential article being now much reduced, and the ship’s company on an allowance of six pints each per diem.

LAND ON THE LARGE BRUMER ISLAND.

We landed at a little bay near the centre of the western side of the nearest and largest of the Brumer group.  Although perfectly sheltered from the wind, a heavy swell broke upon the margin of a fringing coral reef running out fifty or sixty yards from the sandy beach and stretching across the bay.  The boats were backed in from their anchors, and, after seven of us had got onshore by watching an opportunity to jump out up to the middle in water, and cross the reef, hauled out again to await our return.