_Comarty_[1] to
the north, a commodious harbour, sheltered to the eastward by a long,
but narrow island, called _Tricut_, flat, and abounding in cocoa trees;
and to the westward, by _Katsoll_, which is larger. Ships may ride here
very safely.

[1] See Asiatic Researches, Vol. II. 344, III. 292, IV. 132, 328.
Rennel's Memoir, p. 40. Comarty is called Sampieri, in Mr.
Haensel's MSS. and Sombrero in a French chart.

On the north-west point of Nancauwery, behind a low hill, and
contiguous to the best landing-place, on a sandy beach, lay the
missionary-settlement of the United Brethren, called by the natives,
_Tripjet_, or the dwelling of friends, where I arrived in January 1779,
in company of Brother Wangeman. On our passage hither we were driven by
contrary winds to Queda, on the Malay coast. Here we immediately
inquired for Captain Light, having often heard at Tranquebar, that he
was well disposed towards the Brethren and their missions, of which he
had received some account from Dr. Betschler. We were soon conducted to
his dwelling, where we met with a most cordial reception. Being here
without any other recommendation, his friendship and kindness proved
most gratifying and useful to us. Never have I had it in my power to
make any returns to this excellent man, for his disinterested favours,
but I shall retain a never-ceasing remembrance of them in a thankful
heart, and pray the Lord to bless and reward him. His wife was a Malay,
and a relation of the King of Queda, a worthy woman, middle aged, of
great urbanity of manners, and better informed than the generality of
her nation. Her countenance was pleasing, she appeared friendly and
good tempered, and rendered us many kind services, which will not go
unrewarded.

Captain Light expressed his great surprise, at the courage, or rather
simplicity, with which I committed myself to the crew of a Malay boat.
For as we had lost our boat, and the road in which ships come to an
anchor off Queda is above two leagues from the shore, we were at a loss
how to work into the harbour with our little schooner, without a pilot.
A Malay palong passing, I hailed her, and asked the people whether they
would take me on shore. They consented, and I went with them. On
hearing this, Captain Light observed, that though he was able to speak
their language, and accustomed to their manners, he should not venture
to trust himself alone with them, on account of their treacherous