To all this I can say nothing, good or bad.

A certain number of the thralls, many of them wild negritos from the west, have taken to the bush, harbour there in a state partly bestial, or creep into the back quarters of the town to do a day's stealthy labour under the nose of their proprietors.

Twelve were arrested one morning in my own boys' kitchen.

Farther in the bush, huts, small patches of cultivation, and smoking ovens, have been found by hunters.

There are still three runaways in the woods of Tutuila, whither they escaped upon a raft.