rees for lodging.
I was frequently startled, whilst we lay at Pulo Condore, at hearing what appeared to be the whistle of a locomotiverather shrill, it may be, but very much resembling it. It proceeded from an enormous locust.
Pulo Condore lies in the route of the French mail-steamer, between Singapore and Saigon, the latter the capital of the French possessions in Cochin China, and the Governor receiving a large mail while we were here, was kind enough to send us some late papers from Paris and Havre.
Every two or three days, too, he sent us fresh beef, fowls, and fruits.
On the Sunday evening after our arrival, he, and his paymaster repeated their visit to us, and brought in the same boat with themselves, a bullock—a fine fat bison!
In a country comparatively wild, and where supplies were so difficult to be obtained, these presents were greatly enhanced in value.
Poor Monsieur Bizot!
we all regretted to learn, upon our return to Europe, that this promising young officer,