The soiled bamboos and calabashes looked so uninviting that the doctor was for pushing on to Taloo that night, notwithstanding it was near sunset.

But at length we concluded to stay where we were.
After a good deal of bustling outside under a decrepit shed, the old man made his appearance with our supper.

In one hand he held a flickering taper, and in the other, a huge, flat calabash, scantily filled with viands.

His eyes were dancing in his head, and he looked from the calabash to us, and from us to the calabash, as much as to say, "Ah, my lads, what do ye think of this, eh?
Pretty good cheer, eh ?" But the fish and Indian turnip being none of the best, we made but a sorry meal.

While discussing it, the old man tried hard to make himself understood by signs; most of which were so excessively ludicrous that we made no doubt he was perpetrating a series of pantomimic jokes.
The remnants of the feast removed, our host left us for a moment, returning with a calabash of portly dimensions and furnished with a long, hooked neck, the mouth of which was stopped with a wooden plug.
It was covered with particles of earth, and looked as if just taken from some place underground.
With sundry winks and horrible giggles peculiar to the dumb, the vegetable demijohn was now tapped; the old fellow looking round cautiously, and pointing at it; as much as to intimate that it contained something which was "taboo," or forbidden.
Aware that intoxicating liquors were strictly prohibited to the natives, we now watched our entertainer with much interest.