of them in small trenches, out of which they are filled, and the sun quickly performs the necessary process of evaporation.  The salt we procured at Atooi and Oneeheow, on our first visit, was of a brown and dirty sort; but that which we afterward got in Karakakooa Bay was white, and of a most excellent quality, and in great abundance.  Besides the quantity we used in salting pork, we filled all our empty casks, amounting to sixteen puncheons, in the Resolution only.

Their instruments of war are spears, daggers, called pahooas, clubs, and slings.  The spears are of two sorts, and made of a hard solid wood, which has much the appearance of mahogany.  One sort is from six to eight feet in length, finely polished, and gradually increasing in thickness from the extremity till within about half a foot of the point, which tapers suddenly, and is furnished with four or six rows of barbs.  It is not improbable that these might be used in the way of darts.  The other sort, with which we saw the warriors at Owhyhee and Atooi mostly armed, are twelve or fifteen feet long, and, instead of being barbed, terminate toward the point like their daggers.

The dagger, or pahooa, is made of heavy black wood, resembling ebony.  Its length is from one to two feet, with a string passing through the handle, for the purpose of suspending it to the arm.

The clubs are made indifferently of several sorts of wood.  They are of rude workmanship, and of a variety of shapes and sizes.

The slings have nothing singular about them; and in no respect differ from our common slings, except that the stone is lodged on a piece of matting instead of leather.

[5] The nice and highly interesting subject now adverted to, it is evident,
    will require a very extensive and cautious enquiry, and cannot
    possibly be discussed in the small compass allotted to notes.  See
    Forster’s Observations.  But additional information has been obtained
    since the time of that author.—­E.

[6] There is good reason to imagine that most of the early voyagers into
    the South Sea, have exaggerated the numbers of the inhabitants in the
    various groups of islands they met with.  The present calculation, most
    readers will believe, is beyond the truth.  Certain however it is, that
    almost all the recent accounts are at variance with such astonishing
    estimates as were formerly made.  But, on the other hand, Mr.
    Pinkerton’s assertion, that “it is probable there are not above
    300,000 souls in all Australasia and Polynesia,” (Geog. 3d ed. 2d vol.
    p. 172,) must appear so extraordinary when considered in opposition to
    them, as at once to convey the notion of a bold adventure.  Yet even
    this admits of some degree of probability, from the account formerly
    given, of the immense decrease in the population of Otaheite. 
    Altogether the subject is imperfectly understood, and labours under
    peculiar difficulties; we ought to listen with some hesitation,
    therefore, to all assertions respecting it.—­E.