A supply of yams being wanted, the cutter was sent one day at the beginning of July to open a trade, if possible, with the natives of Brierly Island, on which occasion ’Mr Brady took charge of the bartering, and drawing a number of lines upon the sandy beach, explained that when each was covered with a yam, he would give an axe in return.  At first, some little difficulty occurred, as the yams were brought down very slowly—­two or three at a time; but at length the first batch was completed, and the axe handed over.  The man who got it had been trembling with anxiety for some time back, holding Mr Brady by the arm, and watching the promised axe with eager eye.  When he obtained possession of it, he became quite wild with joy, laughing and screaming, and flourishing the axe over his head.  After this commencement, the bartering went on briskly, amidst a great deal of uproar—­the men passing between the village and the beach at full speed, with basketfuls of yams, and too intent on getting the kiram kelumai (iron axes) to think of anything else.’  In this way, 368 pounds of yams were collected, at a cost of about a half-penny per pound.

Among contrivances for procuring food, the natives of some of the islands train the sucking-fish (Echeneis remora) for the chase in the water, as dogs are trained to hunt on land.  A line is made fast to the creature’s tail; it is then started in pursuit of prey, and as soon as it has attached itself to a turtle, or any other ‘game,’ the line is hauled in, and the prize secured.  While the Rattlesnake lay at anchor, a number of sucking-fishes took up their quarters under her bottom, and whenever the sailors dropped a bait overboard, it was always seized by one of the remorae, greatly to the annoyance of the anglers on deck.  ‘Being quite a nuisance,’ writes Mr Macgillivray, ’and useless as food, Jack often treated them as he would a shark, by “spritsail-yarding,” or some still less refined mode of torture.  One day, some of us, while walking the poop, had our attention directed to a sucking-fish, about two and a half feet in length, which had been made fast by the tail to a billet of wood, by a fathom or so of spun-yarn, and turned adrift.  An immense striped shark, apparently about fourteen feet in length, which had been cruising about the ship all the morning, sailed slowly up, and turning slightly on one side, attempted to seize the seemingly helpless fish; but the sucker, with great dexterity, made himself fast in a moment to the shark’s back.  Off darted the monster at full speed—­the sucker holding on as fast as a limpet to a rock, and the billet towing astern.  He then rolled over and over, tumbling about, when, wearied with his efforts, he lay quiet for a little.  Seeing the float, the shark got it into his mouth, and disengaging the sucker by a tug on the line, made a bolt at the fish; but his puny antagonist was again too quick, and fixing himself close behind the dorsal fin, defied the efforts of the shark to disengage him, although he rolled over and over, lashing the water with his tail until it foamed all round.’  After such a spirited combat, it is somewhat tantalising to read, that the final result could not clearly be made out; it is scarcely possible, however, not to wish success to the remora.