both cultivated in the West Indies.

On my return to the village I had a most interesting interview
with these ex-cannibals, one old and two middle-aged men, thanks
to Masirewa, my interpreter. He first asked them how they liked
human flesh, and they all shouted "Venaka, venaka!" (good). Like the
natives of New Guinea, they said it was far better than pig; they also
declared that the legs, arms and palms of the hands were the greatest
delicacies, and that women and children tasted best. The brains and
eyes were especially good. They would never eat a man who had died
a natural death. They had eaten white man; he was salty and fat, but
he was good, though not so good as "Fiji man." One of them had tasted
a certain Mr. -- -- , and the meat on his legs was very fat. They
chopped his feet off above the boots, which they thought were part
of him, and they boiled his feet and boots for days, but they did not
like the taste of the boots. They often kept some of their prisoners
and fattened them up, and when the day came for killing one, it was
the women of Namosi's duty to take him down to the large stone by the
river, where they cut him open alive and tore his heart out. Lastly,
I asked if they would still like to eat man if they got the chance,
and they were not afraid of being punished, and there was no hesitation
in their reply of "Io" (yes), uttered with one voice like the yelp
of a hungry wolf, and it seemed to me that their eyes sparkled. They
were certainly a very obliging lot of cannibals.

Cannibalism is, of course, practically extinct now in Fiji, but in
recent years I am told that there, have been a few odd cases far back
in the mountains. On one occasion a man told his wife to build an oven
and that he was going to cook her. This she did, and he then killed,
cooked, and ate her. Whilst in Fiji I met an Englishman who in the