The hides, as they come rough and uncured from the vessels, are piled up outside of the houses, whence they are taken and carried through a regular process of pickling, drying, and cleaning, and stowed away in the house, ready to be put on board.  This process is necessary in order that they may keep during a long voyage and in warm latitudes.  For the purpose of curing and taking care of them, an officer and a part of the crew of each vessel are usually left ashore; and it was for this business, we found, that our new officer had joined us.  As soon as the hides were landed, he took charge of the house, and the captain intended to leave two or three of us with him, hiring Sandwich-Islanders in our places on board; but he could not get any Sandwich-Islanders to go, although he offered them fifteen dollars a month; for the report of the flogging had got among them, and he was called ``aole maikai’’ (no good); and that was an end of the business.  They were, however, willing to work on shore, and four of them were hired and put with Mr. Russell to cure the hides.

After landing our hides, we next sent ashore our spare spars and rigging, all the stores which we did not need in the course of one trip to windward, and, in fact, everything which we could spare, so as to make room on board for hides; among other things, the pigsty, and with it ``old Bess.’’ This was an old sow that we had brought from Boston, and who lived to get round Cape Horn, where all the other pigs died from cold and wet.  Report said that she had been a Canton voyage before.  She had been the pet of the cook during the whole passage, and he had fed her with the best of everything, and taught her to know his voice, and to do a number of strange tricks for his amusement.  Tom Cringle says that no one can fathom a negro’s affection for a pig; and I believe he is right, for it almost broke our poor darky’s heart when he heard that Bess was to be taken ashore, and that he was to have the care of her no more.  He had depended upon her as a solace, during the long trips up and down the coast. ``Obey orders, if you break owners!’’ said he,—­ ``break hearts,’’ he might have said,—­ and lent a hand to get her over the side, trying to make it as easy for her as possible.  We got a whip on the main-yard, and, hooking it to a strap round her body, swayed away, and, giving a wink to one another, ran her chock up to the yard-arm. ``’Vast there! ‘vast!’’ said the mate; ``none of your skylarking!  Lower away!’’ But he evidently enjoyed the joke.  The pig squealed like the ``crack of doom,’’ and tears stood in the poor darky’s eyes; and he muttered something about having no pity on a dumb beast. ``Dumb beast!’’ said Jack, ``if she’s what you call a dumb beast, then my eyes a’n’t mates.’’ This produced a laugh from all but the cook.  He was too intent upon seeing her safe in the boat.  He watched her all the way ashore, where, upon her landing, she was received by a whole troop of her kind, who had been