XI AGREEABLE SCOUNDRELS 153 
beautifully-turned limbs, and all of them are plump, I 
fancy from living so much on dugong, the oil, of course, 
being very fattening. There are five white men’s 
graves here under some large salmon-coloured flowering 
flame-trees, with the same old story, “ Murdered by the 
natives.” They show you these and point to the in- 
scriptions on them with great pride. 
Now, however, they are peaceful, and on Sunday 
they refused to climb cocoa-nut trees because it was 
Sunday. I regret that they do not add to their Sab- 
batarian reverence a due respect for matrimony ; they 
will sell their wives to any trader for a trifle. On one 
of the reefs here there are two old Spanish cannons 
encrusted with coral ; the natives say they ate the 
crew in the good old times. 
Mr. Jardine, who came with the children unexpect- 
edly last night, when shaking hands with some of the 
men said, — “ Hollo ! you not dead yet ? I thought you 
were hanged long ago ! ” — they smiled and looked as 
pleased as if he had paid them the greatest compliment. 
Some of the men have villainous-looking faces, and I 
would not care to trust myself too long in their com- 
pany. A child died in camp last night, and it was 
buried this morning ; they had cut its forehead and 
body to draw blood when the pain came on, and this 
seems to be their only remedy. 
Thursday Island. 
We reached here, Thursday Island, to-day in a terrible 
storm of wind ; the steamer tossed and rolled every way 
and the waves dashed sometimes clean over her. I 
was deadly sea-sick, and lay like a log in my little berth 
until we anchored. There was a most amusing pro- 
cession as we left the island at daylight — every man, 
