affliction. They learned that her father, a chief of some consequence,
had been killed by the man whose prisoner she now was, and who kept
near her during the greater part of the day.

The officers remained on shore till the evening; "and as we were
preparing to return to the ship," continues Cruise, "we were drawn to
that part of the beach where the prisoners were, by the most doleful
cries and lamentations. Here was the interesting young slave in a
situation that ought to have softened the heart of the most unfeeling.
The man who had slain her father, having cut off his head, and preserved
it by a process peculiar to these islanders, took it out of a basket,
where it had hitherto been concealed, and threw it into the lap of the
unhappy daughter." At once she seized it with a degree of phrenzy not to
be described; and subsequently, with a bit of sharp shell, disfigured
her person in so shocking a manner that in a few minutes not a vestige
of her former beauty remained. They afterwards learned that this fellow
had married the very woman he had treated with such singular barbarity.

The crying, however, seems to be a ceremony that takes place universally
on the meeting of friends who have been for some time parted. We may
give, in illustration of this custom, Cruise's description of the
reception by their relatives of the nine New Zealanders who came along
with him in the "Dromedary" from Port Jackson.

"When their fathers, brothers, etc., were admitted into the ship," says
he, "the scene exceeded description; the muskets were all laid aside,
and every appearance of joy vanished. It is customary with these
extraordinary people to go through the same ceremony upon meeting as
upon taking leave of their friends. They join their noses together, and
remain in this position for at least half-an-hour;[P] during which time