more excitement and pleasure out of them than you can nowadays.
I am by no means a person who hungers for amusement—far from it; but when I had been to see the coals I certainly felt as if I could cram another excitement into that afternoon without any great effort, and I cite this experience as a warning to others of the dangers of being unsatisfied; for although I did discover a far superior and more thrilling thing, high up among the beautiful, blossoming shrubs that make a narrow fringe between the sea and the forest, namely, a large man-o'-war's pinnace, I could not find out how she got there, or why she stayed there. Flushed, however, with this discovery I must needs go on, still along the southern shore, with the grand, densely-forested mountains rising on my left, and the lovely Atlantic on my right,—now and then climbing over rocks, and then paddling across the bar of a tiny river (Munguba) which came creeping out from among the trees, smelling certainly unpleasant, but a joy to the eye. Then I struck a farm, where operations connected with preparing cocoa were proceeding, and the genial natives discoursed with me on the subject for a short time. Going on further I came to another farm, and had more discourse, and a lot of information about Liberia from a native of that country, and then on across other small rivers, the Burapulopu and the Bulabopi, up to a swampy forest, when I turned back at last well satisfied with my afternoon. Just as I passed my first farm I found that what I had regarded as a dry land shrub-belt was nothing of the kind. The tide had come in and taken full possession of it, running up to the forest wall. The forest was far too thick to get through, so there was nothing for it but a hurried waist-high wade. I went in for this remembering that I had been informed that there were very nasty crocodiles on the island, and that I had got to get past the mouth of that largest river—as crocodiley-looking a spot as you could wish for, if you had a gun. I saw none however, and so presume there are none there, for it is the habit of these animals, when they are handy to the sea, to lounge down and meet the in-coming tide. The worst part of the affair was getting round the projecting bits of
