Messrs. Brander’s mail-ship, a sailing vessel of about 600 tons, was to leave for San Francisco at eight o’clock, and at seven Tom started in the ‘Flash’ to take our letters on board.  The passage to San Francisco occupies twenty-five days on an average, and is performed with great regularity once a month each way.  The vessels employed on this line, three in number, are well built, and have good accommodation for passengers, and they generally carry a full cargo.  In the present instance it consists of fungus and tripang (beche-de-mer) for China, oranges for San Francisco, a good many packages of sundries, and a large consignment of pearls, entrusted to the captain at the last moment.

So brisk is the trade carried on between Tahiti and the United States, that the cost of this vessel was more than covered by the freights the first year after she was built.  In addition to these ships, there are those which run backwards and forwards to Valparaiso, and the little island trading schooners; so that the Tahitians can boast of quite a respectable fleet of vessels, not imposing perhaps in point of tonnage, but as smart and serviceable-looking as could be desired.  The trading schooners are really beautiful little craft, and I am sure that, if well kept and properly manned, they would show to no discredit among our smart yachts at Cowes.  Not a day passes without one or more entering or leaving the harbour, returning from or bound to the lonely isles with which the south-west portion of the Pacific is studded.  They are provided with a patent log, but their captains, who are intelligent men, do not care much about a chronometer, as the distances to be run are comparatively short and are easily judged.

Mr. Godeffroy gave us rather an amusing account of the manner in which their negotiations with the natives are conducted.  The more civilised islanders have got beyond barter, and prefer hard cash in American dollars for their pearls, shells, cocoa-nuts, sandal-wood, &c.  When they have received the money, they remain on deck for some time discussing their bargains among themselves.  Then they peep down through the open skylights into the cabin below, where the most attractive prints and the gaudiest articles of apparel are temptingly displayed, alongside a few bottles of rum and brandy and a supply of tobacco.  It is not long before the bait is swallowed; down go the natives, the goods are sold, and the dollars have once more found their way back into the captain’s hands.

I had a long talk with one of the natives, who arrived to-day from Flint Island—­a most picturesque-looking individual, dressed in scarlet and orange-coloured flannel, and a mass of black, shiny, curly hair.  Flint Island is a place whose existence has been disputed, it having been more than once searched for by ships in vain.  It was, therefore, particularly interesting to meet some one who had actually visited, and had just returned from, the spot in question.  That