A picturesque burial spot, amid eternal shades, with
the lullaby of the ocean.
_Saturday, December 5th._--Amused this morning, watching some sedate old
baboons sitting on the sand-beach opposite, and apparently observing the
ship very attentively. Large numbers of these caricatures of humanity
inhabit these islands; yesterday, when a boat landed, great numbers of
young ones were seen gamboling about; but one of the old ones having
called out to them, they soon all disappeared in the thick wood.
Returned the visit of the Frenchman. He is on board a miserable country
craft, of about 40 tons burthen. Sent a boat to the village on the east
side to call on the Governor, and see if we could get some fruit and
vegetables. Boat returned at nightfall. The village is a mere military
port, the native inhabitants, except a few prisoners or slaves, having
fled to the mountains, and no supplies were to be had. The Governor's
residence is a _thatched_ hut, as are all the other houses, with no
industry or taste displayed in their structure. A few patches of
cultivation were visible--rice, fruit, and cotton--the latter looking
rather unpromising. The destroyers of their rice were the monkeys. There
are several varieties of fine large pigeons here, and in abundance. They
are beautiful in feather and fat. A common variety has a green back and
golden tail. This must be a paradise for monkeys, so abundant is their
food in the forests, almost every tree bearing a fruit or nut of some
sort.
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