I had a long talk with one of the natives, who arrived to-day from
Flint Island--a most picturesque-looking individual, dressed in
scarlet and orange-coloured flannel, and a mass of black, shiny, curly
hair. Flint Island is a place whose existence has been disputed, it
having been more than once searched for by ships in vain. It was,
therefore, particularly interesting to meet some one who had actually
visited, and had just returned from, the spot in question. That
islands do occasionally disappear entirely in these parts there can be
little doubt. The Tahitian schooners were formerly in the habit of
trading with a small island close to Rarotonga, whose name I forget;
but about four years ago, when proceeding thither with the usual
three-monthly cargo of provisions, prints, &c., they failed to find
the island, of which no trace has since been seen. Two missionaries
from Rarotonga are believed to have been on it at the time of its
disappearance, and to have shared its mysterious fate.
_Thursday, December 7th_.--At eight o'clock I took Mabelle and Muriel
for a drive in a pony-carriage which had been kindly lent me, but with
a hint that the horse was rather _mechant_ sometimes. He behaved well
on the present occasion, however, and we had a pleasant drive in the
outskirts of the town for a couple of hours.
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