The natives said this stench did not produce disease.

We spent one night in it, and suffered no ill effects, though we fully expected an attack of fever.
Next morning every particle of white paint on both ships was so deeply blackened, that it could not be cleaned by scrubbing with soap and water.
The brass was all turned to a bronze colour, and even the iron and ropes had taken a new tint.

This is an additional proof that malaria and offensive effluvia are not always companions.

We did not suffer more from fever in the mangrove swamps, where we inhaled so much of the heavy mousey smell that it was distinguishable in the odour of our shirts and flannels, than we did elsewhere.
We tarried in the foul and blackening emanations from the marsh because we had agreed to receive on board about thirty poor orphan boys and girls, and a few helpless widows whom Bishop Mackenzie had attached to his Mission.

All who were able to support themselves had been encouraged by the Missionaries to do so by cultivating the ground, and they now formed a little free community.