The next morning early we waded back again through the mud and long wet grass to our boat, and by mid-day reached Cajeli, where I waited Ali's return to decide on my future movements.

He came the following day, and gave a very bad account of Pelah, where he had been.

There was a little brush and trees along the beach, and hills inland covered with high grass and cajuputi trees--my dread and abhorrence.

On inquiring who could give me trustworthy information, I was referred to the Lieutenant of the Burghers, who had travelled all round the island, and was a very intelligent fellow.

I asked him to tell me if he knew of any part of Bouru where there was no "kusu-kusu," as the coarse grass of the country is called.