There was a native priest resident in our hut, probably placed there to observe our conduct, and who, for the whole morning, had been occupied in smearing himself with coloured clay.  We noticed that this man, during our visit, performed every morning a few religious ceremonies, and repeated prayers, in which the natives appeared to join.  After the King’s departure, he began to exercise some of the more mysterious functions of his office.  I know not what the occasion was, but the ceremony consisted in frequent repetitions of certain short sentences, in which the individual on whom he was operating occasionally joined; and, in the intervals between these sentences, he shook a bundle of rods over the head of the latter, making, at the same time, a noise which resembled the squeaking of a pig.

I am enabled to communicate but little respecting the religious sentiments of this people.  The duties of the priests appear to be more surgical than clerical; of which opinion the following are illustrations:  A female applied to one of the priests with an inflammatory tumour on the hand; after making an incision into the tumour, and squeezing it in a manner which made his patient grin with pain, he blew and spat upon the part.  Upon another person, who had an abcess of the eye, with an accumulation of some white matter in it, he performed the following delicate operation:  having first applied his mouth to the part, he began to suck it with great eagerness and perseverance, after which he ejected from his mouth a chalky-looking substance, which he appeared to have extracted from the diseased structure:  this process he repeated several times, with a similar result.  These were, at least, substantial duties.

Our priest had a sacred corner in the hut, with a particular seat which none else presumed to occupy; the former, a receptacle for dirt, the latter, formed of a large stone, with four smaller ones, which served for legs or supporters.

I endeavoured in vain to gain any satisfactory account of their funeral ceremonies; no indications of graves have been seen by our people, and the probability is, as is not unfrequently the custom in Africa, that they bury their dead under the earthen floor of their huts.  I know not whether this opinion will be deemed as confirmed or not by the fact, that, in returning from a walk, this afternoon, we passed a closed hut, with five hats hanging in front of it, the owner of which, we were informed, had died shortly before our arrival.

Our friend Canning supplied us with a fowl for dinner, and, when it was dressed, appeared perfectly ready to assist us in disposing of it.