The Bristolians preserve the old 'round trade,' and barter native produce
against cloth and beads, rum and gin, salt, tobacco, and gunpowder. These
ship-shops send home their exports by the mail-steamers, and vary their
monotonous days by visits on board. They sail home when the cargoes are
sold, each vessel making up her own accounts and leaving 'trust,' but no
debts. The life must be like making one's home in a lighthouse, plus an
eternal roll; and the line gives a weary time to the mail-steamers, as
these never know exactly where the Bristol barques will be found.
After hugging the coast and prospecting Biribi, we sighted the Drewins,
whose natives are a powerful and spirited race, equally accustomed to
either element. There are no better canoe-men on the coast. They ship
only on board the Bristol ships, and they have more than once flogged a
cruel skipper caught ashore. Passing King George's Town, we halted (11
A.M., January 23) opposite the river and settlement of Fresco, where two
barques and a cutter were awaiting supplies. Fresco-land is beautified by
perpendicular red cliffs, and the fine broad beach is feathered with
cocoas which suggest _kopra_--the dried meat of the split kernel.
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