Most of the natives living on the coast have acquired the habit of smoking, and very soon become inveterate at it. They would sell their souls for tobacco.
There are islands to the north of the mainland where tobacco is entirely unknown, but before many years are over it will reach them also.
The women are not heavy smokers, and are never to be seen with a clay pipe in their mouths. They prefer smoking the "bau-bau," a family pipe made of bamboo. It is a hollow piece of wood, three or four feet long, circular, with a big hole at one end and a small hole at the other. The tobacco is rolled in a pan-danus leaf in the form of a cigarette, placed in the small hole and lighted, the smoke is then blown into the pipe and the tobacco removed. The first smoker, holding the pipe in both hands, takes two draws and passes it on to the next. The tobacco must then be inserted again and the process repeated.
When smoking the "bau-bau" they seat themselves in a circle. The pipe is always artistically carved, and is a great favourite with the women.
Having lost our only dinghy, I purchased from the natives a canoe with an outrigger attached, capable of holding two persons. I had to pay one American hatchet for it. It came in very handy, as without it I should have been dependent on the natives for going ashore.
Some of their canoes here are very large, carrying a big mat sail made from the palm-tree, the seams well caulked and tarred. It is surprising how quickly they can travel, and how close to the wind they can go. They go out with them in all sorts of weather, and it is very seldom they get upset. The leading man in the canoe sits in the stern sheets and acts as helmsman.
He also gives the word of command. When it is time to make sail, he sings out in a loud voice, "Wai-wai, Wai-wai," and when the great sail has been hoisted to the peak, he calls out, "Besi" (that will do), the halyards and sheets are belayed, the sail is canted over, and away she scuds before the breeze.
The prows of their canoes are decorated with numbers of the white egg-shaped cowrie shell, and, like our own vessels, each canoe has a particular name.
The natives trade a good deal amongst themselves, in some instances taking sago in their large canoes a distance of 300 miles, bringing back in exchange yams, betel-nut, etc.
Having obtained several bags of Bêche-de-mer and copra, and stowed them safely on board, I took advantage of a light favourable wind and left for Samarai (China Straits).