My companions took great delight in dressing my absurdly long tresses, using combs which I had made out of porcupines' quills.
Our contentment was a great source of joy to Yamba, who was now fully convinced that I would settle down among her people for ever.
The blacks were strangely affected by our singing.

Any kind of civilised music or singing was to them anathema.

What they liked best was the harsh uproar made by pieces of wood beaten together, or the weird jabbering and chanting that accompanied a big feast.

Our singing they likened to the howling of the dingoes! They were sincere, hardly complimentary.
Elsewhere I have alluded to the horror the girls had of being left alone.
Whenever I went off with the men on a hunting expedition I left them in charge of my other women-folk, who were thoroughly capable of looking after them.

I also persuaded the natives to keep some distance away from our dwelling, particularly when they were about to hold a cannibal feast, so that the girls were never shocked by such a fearful sight.