As soon as we were clear of the harbour, we made sail, and stood over for the South end of Ulietea.  Oree took the opportunity to send a man with a message to Opoony.  Being little wind all the latter part of the day, it was dark before we reached the west side of the isle, where we spent the night.  The same light variable wind continued till ten o’clock next morning, when the trade-wind at east prevailed, and we ventured to ply up to the harbour, first sending a boat to lie in anchorage in the entrance.  After making a few trips, we got before the channel, and with all our sails set, and the head-way the ship had acquired, shut her in as far as she would go; then dropped the anchor, and took in the sails.  This is the method of getting into most of the harbours which are on the lee-side of these isles; for the channels, in general, are too narrow to ply in:  We were now anchored between the two points of the reef which form the entrance; each not more than two-thirds the length of a cable from us, and on which the sea broke with such height and violence, as to people less acquainted with the place, would have been terrible.  Having all our boats out with anchors and warps in them, which were presently run out, the ship warped into safety, where we dropt anchor for the night.  While this work was going forward, my old friend Oree the chief, and several more, came to see us.  The chief came not empty.

Next day we warped the ship into a proper birth, and moored her, so as to command all the shores around us.  In the mean time a party of us went ashore to pay the chief a visit, and to make the customary present.  At our first entering his house, we were met by four or five old women, weeping and lamenting, as it were, most bitterly, and at the same time cutting their heads, with instruments made of shark’s teeth, till the blood ran plentifully down their faces and on their shoulders.  What was still worse, we were obliged to submit to the embraces of these old hags, and by that means were all besmeared with blood.  This ceremony (for it was merely such) being over, they went out, washed themselves, and immediately after appeared as cheerful as any of the company.  Having made some little stay, and given my present to the chief and his friends, he put a hog and some fruit into my boat, and came on board with us to dinner.  In the afternoon, we had a vast number of people and canoes about us, from different parts of the island.  They all took up their quarters in our neighbourhood, where they remained feasting for some days.  We understood the most of them were Eareeoies.

The 26th afforded nothing remarkable, excepting that Mr Forster, in his botanical excursions, saw a burying-place for dogs, which they called Marai no te Oore.  But I think we ought not to look upon this as one of their customs; because few dogs die a natural death, being generally, if not always, killed and eaten, or else given as an offering to the gods.  Probably this might be a Marai or altar, where this sort of offering was made; or it might have been the whim of some person to have buried his favourite dog in this manner.  But be it as it will, I cannot think it is a general custom in the nation; and, for my own part, I neither saw nor heard of any such thing before.