sighted feeding on the end of a branch of a small tree. We celebrated Thanksgiving Day by not going ashore and by eating a fine dinner, all the result of the ingenious planning and cooking of Mrs. Beck. She had Teora roast the bodies of the hornbills after soaking them all night in salted water. They were delicious. In addition to them we had a nygnali nut cake with icing on it, canned asparagus, canned strawberries, pumpkin pie, and a hot pie made out of some stuff that Teora got a hold of going through Moli. It was a veritable feast. The only trouble with it was that it was too hot to eat half the material we had, and we interpolated the process of eating with dashes up on deck for air. It was a fine day, about a hundred and one in the shade, and no rain falling. Early Friday morning we weighed anchor and after three hours or so entered Choiseul Bay and anchored off the plantation operated by a gentleman called Everett. Day was hot, and no rain fell. Friday, November 25th to Tuesday, November 29th. Choiseul Bay. In our stay at Choiseul Bay Mr. Everett, the manager of the place, extended every possible kindness to us. He is a tall, lanky, lazy, New Zealander and feels his isolation very deeply. He is the only white man in forty miles of Choiseul Bay in all directions. He took every opportunity he had to be aboard the France, coming in during