Having obtained a situation as assistant in the cabin of the ship Charles Eaton, I went on board on the 28th of September, 1833, to assist in preparing for the voyage. In the month of December following, I had the misfortune to fall into the dock, and not being able to swim, narrowly escaped drowning; but through the exertions of Mr. Clare, the chief officer of the ship, I was with difficulty saved.

About the 19th of December, we left the dock, with a cargo mostly of lead and calico. Our crew consisted of the following persons: Frederick Moore, commander; Robert Clare, chief mate; William Major, second mate, Messrs. Ching and Perry, midshipmen; Mr. Grant, surgeon: Mr. Williams, sail-maker; William Montgomery, steward; Lawrence Constantyne, carpenter; Thomas Everitt, boatswain; John Barry, George Lawn, James Millar, James Moore, John Carr, Francis Hower, William Jefferies, Samuel Baylett, Charles Robertson, and Francis Quill, seamen; and John Sexton, and myself, boys. The passengers were, Mr. Armstrong, a native of Ireland, and twenty-five male and female children from the Emigration Society, with some other steerage passengers.

We had a favorable passage down the river to Gravesend, where we took leave of our pilot. A pilot is a person who takes charge of the ships in those parts of rivers where they are dangerous. On the 23d of December we went on our voyage, passing Deal on the 25th, and arrived at Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, on the 27th.

The wind here proved contrary, and we were detained in the harbor until the 4th of January, 1834; when, as we were attempting to quit, a schooner ran against our vessel and broke off our bowsprit and jib-boom, and did other damage to her. The bowsprit is the mast that sticks out in front of the ship, and the jib-boom is the top joint of the bowsprit. We were therefore obliged to remain there until the repairing of the ship was completed; and on the 1st of February left Cowes.

This accident caused great alarm among the passengers, and more especially among the children; indeed it was well that we escaped as we did; for even in our own harbors in England, ships are often in great danger.

We arrived at Falmouth, near Land’s-end in Cornwall, on the 5th of February; and having on the 8th completed our cargo, left England with a good wind, and every prospect of a happy voyage.

About the latter end of March, we crossed the Equator; that is, that part of the world where the sun is over head and makes no shadow; here we went through the usual ceremony of paying tribute to Neptune, to the great amusement of the passengers.

We came to the Cape of Good Hope, which is in Africa, on the 1st of May, and here we landed several of our passengers; we again set sail, on the 4th, for Hobart’s Town, in Australia, upwards of twenty thousand miles from England, where we arrived on the 16th of June; at this place we bade farewell to our young emigrants, and some of the passengers.

On the 8th of July, Captain and Mrs. Doyley, with their two sons, George and William, the one about seven or eight years old, and the other about fourteen months, came on board as passengers to Sourabaya, intending to go from thence to Calcutta, in the East Indies. William, the youngest, was my unfortunate companion.

Nothing particular occurred after our leaving Hobart’s Town, till we arrived in Sidney, in New South Wales, on the 13th of July. There we took in some ballast; that is, heavy articles which are put in the bottom of the ship to keep it from turning over with the wind. Our boatswain, Mr. Everitt, left us at Sidney, and we took on board in his stead Mr. Pigot, and two or three seamen.

We set sail for China on the 29th. An accident happened two or three days after leaving the town, which almost caused the death of our excellent chief officer, Mr. Clare. An anchor is an iron instrument affixed to the end of a long chain, and is used to keep ships in one place. It generally hangs at the bows, or fore part of the vessel. The men were getting the anchor in its proper place, and Mr. Clare was helping them; on a sudden, the wood of the implement which he was using broke, and he fell into the sea. We immediately stopped work, and let down the boat, and he being an excellent swimmer, was able to keep up till the boat reached him. We were at that time going about six miles an hour.

We sailed this time with fine weather and good winds, and made the entrance to Torres Straits, a narrow passage between two islands in the Southern Ocean, on the 14th of August, in the evening.

The wind now began to blow rather hard; so much so that the captain thought it necessary to take in some of the sails, and would not attempt to go on during the dark. However, at daylight on the next morning we again set sail, although the wind was very high, and the water getting rough, that is, forming itself into large waves.

The wind continued to increase till about ten o’clock in the morning, when the ship struck on a reef called the “Detached Reef.” A reef is a number of rocks in the water, at a short distance from the land, over which the water just rises, without leaving room enough for a ship to pass. The Detached Reef was near the entrance of Torres Straits.

So violent was the shock, that the rudder (that by which a ship is guided,) and the keel, (that ledge which runs along the bottom of the ship,) were both knocked off, and the captain gave it as his opinion that nothing could save the ship.

The chief mate cut away the masts, in order to lighten her; but without effect, and we then found that the bottom was broken in, at which place the water soon made an entrance, and completely spoiled every thing she contained. The high and swelling waves broke completely over her, and in a short time the vessel was a perfect wreck.

It was happy for us that the upper part kept together as it did, though there was so much danger, from the water rising, that every one expected to be washed over. There was plainly to be heard above the din of the wind and sea, the horrible groaning of the planks forming the sides of the ship, between which the water rushed as through a sieve; and as they were one by one broken away from the ill-fated vessel, we felt that we were approaching nearer to a death from which we could not hope to escape, unless by some merciful interposition of Divine Goodness we should be rescued from our watery enemy.

Nor were these thoughts lessened by seeing that ours was not the only vessel that had cause to repent the dangerous and almost unknown navigation of these straits. About three or four miles from us, to the windward, or that side from which the wind blows, we observed a ship high and dry, that is, lying out of water, upon the reefs; she had her masts standing, her royal yards across, and her sails set; in which state she had seemingly been left by her crew.

At the time of the vessel striking, Mrs. Doyley was taking coffee in the cabin, and her infant was asleep in one of the berths, little dreaming to what future ills his weak and helpless frame was to be exposed.

The distracted mother instantly ran on deck in alarm; and I went into the cabin, where I saw the poor child washed out of its berth, and crying on the floor. I took him to Mrs. Doyley, who, after that time, for the seven long days which were occupied in making the raft, could not by any means be persuaded to give up her dear charge.

Upon finding how the ship was situated, Captain Moore ordered the boats to be got ready, and furnished with provisions, in order, if possible, to save the ship’s company, and reach the island of Timor, regretting the stern necessity which urged him to such a step in such a sea.

I once heard Captain Moore declare that he was sorry he had not made use of his own chart, instead of one that he bought at Sidney, lest there might be any mistake in his own.

We were in possession of four boats; the long boat, two cutters, and a small boat called a dingy. Three of the seamen seized one of the cutters; and two others got on board of it next morning by swimming across the reef at the imminent peril of their lives. A little biscuit, a ham, and a keg of water, with some carpenters’ tools, had been placed in the boat on its leaving the ship. As soon as the two men had got into the boat, they rowed away, and I have never heard any tidings of them since.

The persons remaining on board the wreck now held a consultation as to what was best to be done in this miserable state of their affairs. There were about thirty persons, without sufficient provisions to sustain life, much less satisfy the cravings of hunger, for a month, without any fresh water, and with no prospect of escape from their forlorn condition.

Every care was requisite to prevent the least excess or extravagance. We were all put upon allowance of a few damaged pieces of biscuit and two wine-glassfuls of water per day, during the seven days of making the raft, which was our only hope, and on which we went to work with all the energy our desperate state allowed us. A raft is formed of pieces of wood roughly fastened together, so that it will float on the water; some have been made large enough to hold a hundred and fifty people.

The poop, or raised part of the deck, and one side of the forecastle, or front part, being washed away, the small part of it that remained was so crowded that we were almost always in one another’s way, although as many as could were working at the raft. All the provision that we could save, and that was very little, and all the materials wanted for our work, were obliged to be put on this small space, for the water rose four feet higher than the deck below, and broke away some of the planks and timbers every time the tide rose.

As the tide went down, we dived into the body of the ship, to try to get some of the ship’s stores, and with the hopeless idea of getting something to satisfy our hunger; but the bottom was so washed away that the hold could not contain any thing which might have been in it at the time of the storm.

Mrs. Doyley and her husband gave every stimulus to exertion; and the kind manner in which they requested us to make use of any of their clothes, part of which were the only ones saved, I shall ever remember with gratitude.

We managed, however, to distil a small quantity of water, of which a cask and a few bottles were saved for the raft, by boiling it in the ship’s coppers, and leading the steam by means of a pipe, through the quarter galley cistern, and catching the water thus made in a cask. The supply of this valuable article thus procured, small as it was, we found to be one of our greatest helps during our stay upon the wreck.

The raft was completed, as well as the difficulties that we had to overcome would permit, in seven days; and the water, with a cask of pork and some biscuit, being put upon it, we all followed; but it was not sufficiently buoyant for all; that is, it was not light enough to keep us up; so the greater part of us returned to the wreck, leaving upon the raft, the captain, Mr. Moore; the surgeon, Mr. Grant; Captain and Mrs. Doyley, and their two children; their black nurse, a native of India; and Mr. Armstrong, with two seamen, named Lowine and Berry; who determined to remain on it all night.

In the morning, however, we found the rope by which the raft had been made fast to the stern or back part of the vessel was cut, and we could see nothing of our late companions.

It is probable that the uncomfortable situation in which they were placed, up to their waists in water, induced Captain Moore to cut the rope, and trust to the wind and sea to carry them to a place of safety. The gale had abated, and the sea lulled, during the time we were making the raft.

Those who had returned on board set to work to make another raft of the ship’s topmasts, lashed or tightly tied together with rope. A topmast is the top joint of a mast. We also made a sail of some of the cloth of the ship’s cargo.

We worked with the greatest diligence, but did not complete it for about a week. We then got upon it, with all the food we could get, which was only a few pieces of damaged biscuit; we cut the rope, and bade adieu to the wreck of the Charles Eaton.

What our feelings were at that time, I can scarcely describe. The fear that the adventure we had undertaken would not turn out to advantage; the certainty of death if we remained; the hope of again reaching our native country, were each brought in turn to mind, and acting upon our already half-starved condition, made us almost incapable of using the little strength of which we had not been deprived, and we took our places on the raft in a silence which showed the height of our despair.

The vessel that we saw with her masts standing, was too far off to windward for us to reach; I do not think a boat could have been rowed up to her, against the wind and tide, which were both against us, and the current running very strong, so we gave up the idea as hopeless.

As soon as we had cast off, we set our sail, and steered along with the wind; but our raft was so heavy and deep that the progress we made was very slow. We drifted, rather than sailed, and that at a rate of not more than a mile or a mile and a half an hour.

We came to a reef, upon which we stayed all night; the next morning we again set sail on our perilous voyage before the wind, but saw no more reefs. We were two more days and nights upon the raft, up to our waists in water, and with a very small allowance of food. This was soon all eaten. We then passed an island, and saw several more ahead.

Soon after we had passed the first island, we saw a canoe paddling towards us, containing ten or twelve native Indians. A canoe is a rude kind of Indian boat. As they came towards us, they extended their arms, which we supposed meant that they were unarmed, and wished to be friendly.

On their reaching the raft, several of them got upon it, and were gently put back by Mr. Clare; he at the same time saying that he thought from their manners that they were not to be trusted. They were very stout men, and quite naked.

An event happened, which, at another time, would have afforded much amusement, but now, was a serious loss. One of the Indians, attracted no doubt by a piece of white cloth that was hanging to the top of our mast, climbed up it; when the desired cloth was within his reach, the mast broke, and he was thrown into the sea, without receiving any injury.

We gave the natives a looking glass and a piece of red cloth, with which they appeared very much pleased, and began to make signs to us to get into their canoe. We at first hesitated to do so, until Mr. Ching, the midshipman, said he would go; as he thought by that means to get sooner to England; at any rate, he said, he could not be worse off.

Upon his going into the canoe, we all agreed to go too, and left the raft; on which the Indians commenced a strict search for iron and tools; but could find nothing but a few old hoops. These they collected and put into the canoe.

It was about four in the afternoon when we left the raft; and after passing three islands on our right, and one on our left, we landed on an island which I afterwards found the natives called Boydan. We could plainly see the main land, about fourteen or fifteen miles distant. The island was very small.

As soon as we landed, we made signs that we were hungry. The natives went with us round the island in search of food and water. We were unsuccessful; not having found so much as a drop of water. When we returned to the place where we landed, hunger and fatigue had so completely exhausted us that we could scarcely walk.

The Indians now began to show signs of their ferocious disposition. They stood around us, grinning and yelling in a most hideous manner, as though delighting in the success of their schemes, and feeling fresh delight at our showing how great was our increasing pain.

Mr. Clare now said we had better prepare for the worst; indeed it was very plain that the Indians were only watching an opportunity to kill us. He read some prayers from a book which he had brought from the wreck; and we all most heartily joined with him in supplication. We felt that probably it would be our last and only opportunity while here on earth.

How true is the admonition which warns us that “in the midst of life we are in death.” But little did the wanderers who set out in the frail vessel, in all the gaiety of health and strength, imagine what was to be their melancholy fate, what would be their sufferings, or what the horrible termination of their existence.

After having spent some time in prayer, we threw ourselves on the ground, in expectation of being killed. Although it will readily be imagined we were little in heart disposed to slumber, yet such was the state to which we were reduced, that most of us fell almost immediately into a sound sleep. The natives, seeing us lying down, appeared anxious that we should go to sleep; which they signified to us by putting their head on one shoulder, and closing their eyes.

I felt quite sure, from one thing, that mischief was intended. I saw one of the natives advance from a canoe in a strange manner; stealing cautiously along with a club in his hand, hid as he thought from our sight, behind his back, and which he dropped upon the beach. I told this to the seaman, Carr, who was lying next to me; but he, being very sleepy, seem to take no notice of it, and soon after was in a deep sleep. Not long after this, I observed with dread, that as the people fell asleep, a native placed himself between every two of us; yet I was so overcome with weariness and weakness, I fell asleep too. This I have no doubt, was for the more easy execution of the horrid purpose they intended, that of murdering us, without giving us a chance for escape or defence. It was utterly out of our power to resist; as we had not so much as a staff or stick to defend ourselves with; and our exhaustion was too great to allow us to quit the place where we then were.

About as near as I can guess, an hour after I had been asleep, I was awoke by a terrible shouting and noise. I instantly arose, and on looking round, I saw the natives killing my companions by dashing out their brains with clubs. The first that was killed was Mr. Ching, and after him his companion, Mr. Perry; the next victim was Mr. Major, the second officer.

The confusion now became terrible, and my agitation at beholding the horrid scene was so great that do I not distinctly remember what passed after this. The last person that I recollect seeing alive was Mr. Clare; who in an attempt to escape, was overtaken and immediately murdered by a blow on the head.

Myself and John Sexton were now the only two remaining alive. An Indian came to me with a carving knife in his hand, which I could see belonged to the cabin, and recollected its being put on the first raft. He seized me, and tried to cut my throat; but I grasped the blade of the knife in my right hand, and held it fast. I struggled hard for my life. He at last threw me down, and placing his knee upon my breast, tried to wrench the knife out of my hand; but I still kept it, though one of my fingers was cut to the bone. I at last succeeded in getting upon him, and then I let go my hold, and ran into the sea.

I swam out a little way; but the only chance for my life being to return to shore, I landed again, expecting to be killed on the spot. The same Indian then came towards me in a furious manner, and shot an arrow at me, which struck me in my right breast. On a sudden, however, he, very much to my surprise, became quite calm, and led, or rather dragged me to a little distance, and offered me some fish. This, hungry as I was, I was afraid to eat lest it should be poisoned.

During my stay with these people, I have frequently seen them fly into a violent rage, and recover themselves in a moment, becoming quite calm, as was the case with the man who had tried to take my life.

Whilst struggling with the Indian, I saw Sexton, who was held by another, bite a piece out of his arm. After that, I knew nothing of him, until I found that his life was spared in a manner something similar to my own.

Not very far off, the other savages were dancing round a large fire, before which they had placed in a row, the heads of our unfortunate companions, whose bodies, after being stripped of their clothes, were left on the beach, and I should think the tide soon washed them away, for I never saw them afterwards. From these heads, I saw the savages, every now and then, cut pieces of flesh from the cheeks, and pluck out the eyes, and eat them, shouting most hideously. This, I afterwards learned, it was the custom of these islanders to do with their prisoners; they think that it will give them courage, and excite them to revenge themselves upon their enemies.

Sexton and myself were taken up to the fire, where some of the natives sat like tailors, dividing the clothes and other articles which they had taken from the bodies of the persons killed. We were given into the care of two of the natives, who covered us with a sort of mat, that formed the sail of the canoe. My wounds, which were still bleeding very much, they did not pay the least attention to.

It is impossible for me to describe our feelings during this dreadful night. We fully expected, every moment, to share the fate of those whom we had so lately seen cruelly murdered. We prayed together for some time, and after each promising to call on the other’s relations, should either ever escape, we took leave of each other, giving ourselves up for lost.

At length the morning came; and the Indians, after having collected all the heads, took us with them in their canoes to another island, which they called Pullan, where the women lived. On landing, I saw Captain Doyley’s two children, and a Newfoundland dog, called Portland, which belonged to the ship.

The Indians took us to some open huts which they had in the island, and placed us before a fire; I saw there the gown worn by Mrs. Doyley at the time she left the wreck, the steward’s watch and white hat, and several other articles of clothing, which belonged to those of the crew who left the ship in the first raft.

Near the huts a pole was stuck in the ground, around which were hung the heads of our unfortunate companions. Among them I plainly recognized Mrs. Doyley’s, for they had left part of the hair on it; and I knew Captain Moore’s by the face.

Every morning about sunrise, and every evening at sunset, one of the natives went close to the pole, and blew seven or eight times through a large shell; which made a noise somewhat like blowing through a cow’s horn; at the same time looking up steadfastly at the heads.

After this, the other people decked themselves with the green branches of trees, and some painted or rather rubbed their bodies over with a kind of ochre, of a red color and white, and came to the pole with great parade, holding their clubs and spears. Then they made a sort of corrobory, or dance; but I could not trace any signs of religion in these ceremonies, nor detect any thing like reverence paid to the pole.

I asked George Doyley what had become of his father and mother? He told me that they were both killed by the blacks, as well as all those who went away from the ship in the first raft, excepting himself and his little brother.

The little fellow gave a very distinct account of the dreadful transaction. He said he was so frightened when he saw his father killed by a blow on the head from a club, that he hardly knew what he did; but when his mother was killed in the same way, he thought they would kill him and his little brother too, and then he hoped they should all go to heaven together. I then told him that all the crew, except myself and Sexton, were murdered.

After we had been on the island a few days, a vessel came in sight, and I did all I could to induce the natives to take us to it; but they would not part with us. Seven days afterwards, two more ships, in company, came close to the shore. The natives seemed very much frightened at this, and were in the utmost confusion; they took us, and all the skulls, with the dog, and hid us among the bushes until the ships were gone.

We were very scantily supplied with provisions during our stay on the island. When the natives had been unsuccessful in fishing, they would eat it all themselves; and at other times, when they caught a good supply, they gave us the entrails and heads. This, with a sort of wild plum, and now and then a piece of cocoa-nut, which we got without their knowledge, was our only food.

We were sometimes so hungry as to be glad to eat the grass. Through doing this, I have often been attacked with such violent pains in the stomach, as made me unable to walk upright.

Little William Doyley was very ill-used during our stay here; he cried very much after his mother; and at times the natives, both men and women, would tie him up to a tree, and beat him with bamboos; on my asking them to leave off, as well as I could by signs, they would shoot at me with their bows and arrows. On one occasion, when the women were beating him, I went and released him, and very nearly lost my life, for an arrow was shot within an inch of my head. They sometimes tied him up and left him several hours.

Sexton and myself were chiefly employed in climbing trees, and breaking up fire-wood to cook the fish with; when they thought we had not enough, they would beat us with their hands, and sometimes with the wood.

They would at times take us with them in their canoes, to catch fish, which they did by spearing, and with lines and hooks. Their lines were made of the fibres of the outside shell or husk of the cocoa-nuts; and the hooks were neatly made of tortoise shell.

The number of Indians on this island amounted to about sixty. They were merely residing on the island during the fishing season; for their home, as I afterward found out, was a great distance off.

After remaining here, as near as I can recollect, three months, (for I had almost lost all remembrance of dates) the Indians separated. One party took me and William Doyley with them in a canoe; and George Doyley and Sexton stayed with the other party.

The party that took me along with them, set sail early in the morning, and about the middle of the day reached another small island to the northward, where we stayed a day and a night; it had a sandy beach. The next morning we left this island and went to another, which was very flat, and covered with low bushes; here we stayed a fortnight. We then sailed northward, stopping at other islands, as long as we could get food for the party; this food consisted of fish and wild fruits; our drink was water.

We came to one island where we stayed about a month, and from thence went to another, which the natives called Aroob, but which I afterwards learned was Darnley’s Island. This place I have very good reason to recollect; it was here that we were first treated with some kindness by the natives. After staying here about a fortnight, we again embarked, returning by the way we had come, to an island called by the natives Sirreb, situated near to Aureed.

Poor little William seemed to wish to stop on any of the islands where we landed; and cried for a long time after being on board the canoe, to return to them.

After remaining on this island rather more than a week, a canoe, with some of the natives of Murray’s Island, came there. They bought us of our captors for two bunches of bananas. We did not leave the island for three days after we were bought; but in that time went in the canoe with our new masters, who treated us very kindly. I was pleased to find that poor little William began to become more cheerful.

We returned by way of Darnley’s Island, stayed there a few days, and then went to Murray’s Island, where we afterwards lived until the period of our release by Captain Lewis, in the Isabella.

Upon our first landing on Murray’s Island, the natives flocked around us, wondering who we were. They began asking those who had brought us a great many questions, and speaking to us in a language very nearly like that of the other natives, and which I was just beginning to understand. Some of the children were very much frightened at us, and ran away as soon as they saw us.

I soon learned that the name of the person who bought me was Dupper; and little William was given into the care of a native called Oby, who lived near Dupper’s hut. This man soon got very fond of the little boy, as the child also became of him; indeed he seemed here to have quite forgotten his mother and father.

My name among these people, was Waki, and that of William, was Uass. I lived in the same hut with Dupper and his family, consisting of himself, his wife Panney, three sons, to all appearance young men, and two daughters, who were called Yope and Sarki.

In this place I was made as comfortable as I could expect, under the circumstances in which I was placed; my wounds had continued open during my wanderings, but they now began to heal, and my appearance soon altered for the better. I had now gone through all that could be called suffering; but still I constantly wished that some European vessel would touch at that shore, and take me once more to see my friends and country.

My new master (I should have called him father, for he behaved to me as kindly as he did to his sons,) gave me a canoe, about sixty feet long, which he purchased at New Guinea, (the island that forms one side of the straits, Australasia being the other,) for a large tomahawk and a bow and arrow. He also gave me a piece of ground, on which he taught me to grow yams, bananas, and cocoa-nuts. When we were not otherwise engaged, he taught me to shoot with the bow and arrow, and to spear fish.

Little William soon began to speak their language; and I also learned so much of it as to be able to converse in it with great ease; having no other than natives to speak to, it is more than probable that as I learned their language, I should have forgotten that of my native country.

Although William was in general more cheerful, he would now and then appear very uneasy. On these occasions, I used to ask Dupper to allow me to sleep along with the child. This made him much more happy. As soon as he could speak their language pretty freely, he would go down to the beach with the other children of the island; and the effect of the sun on his skin became very apparent. In a few months he could not be distinguished by his color from the other children; his hair being the only thing by which he could be known at a distance, from its light color.

Murray’s Island is about two miles across, and contains about seven or eight hundred people. During my stay there, I never perceived any person who was in any manner above the rest of the natives, as regarded being a king, or chief, or any thing of that kind; but the whole of the inhabitants seem entirely independent of each other.

The houses or huts of the natives are something in the form of a bee-hive, with a hole in the side, even with the ground, and about two feet and a half in height, which serves for an entrance. When you go in, you must creep upon your hands and knees. They are made by placing a pole upright in the ground, and putting stakes round it in a circle at equal distances: these are then all bent inwards, and fastened together near the top of the pole, to which they are firmly bound.

The outside is then covered with dried banana leaves, which are very large. The entrance is merely a place in the side left uncovered. The pole, or supporter, is generally ornamented with shells; and at the top of it, which sticks out above the rest of the hut, they mostly fasten the largest one they can find. Some of the huts have a quantity of skulls arranged round the inside.

Their canoes, or boats, are very large, mostly about fifty or sixty feet long, and some even larger than that. Two masts, opposite to each other, with a sail hanging between them, are placed nearly in the centre, but more towards the head of the canoe. The sail is made of plaited grass. When going with a side wind, they put one of the masts backwards, so that the sail stands slantingly. They use paddles of almost every shape; but the most general is merely a piece of wood cut flat, and broadest at the end which touches the water.

They are expert in the use of the bow, which they call sireck; they make them of split bamboo; and they are so powerful that persons not accustomed to using the bow, would scarcely be able to bend them. Their arrows are pieces of wood made heavy at one end by a piece of stone or shell, sharpened at the end.

Their clubs are made of a hard black wood; the handle is made small, and has a knob at the end to prevent its slipping out of the hand.

They are very fond of all sorts of European articles; especially beads, glass, red cloth, bottles, and particularly of iron, which they call ‘torre.’ When they see a ship, they say directly, “We will get some torre.” They think iron is found in the white men’s country in large rocks; and that we merely have to break pieces off as we want them.

Of all things, they were most inquisitive about fire-arms, which they call by the same name as they do their bows. Dupper told me that some of their people had been killed by them, and they never could see what struck them. But I could not explain to him the way that a gun was made, for I scarcely knew myself; all I could tell him I did, but this only made him the more curious.

Their usual way of catching fish is by spearing; but they also take the small ones with a kind of net, something like a sieve. One party disturbs the water, by beating it with long bamboo sticks, and so drive the fish towards the other, who then spear or net them. Lobsters are caught in the following manner: a party will get on a sandbank at night, some of them holding a bunch of lighted cocoa-nut leaves above their heads; the lobsters, seeing the light, leave their holes, and are then speared by the others.

Turtles abound on the islands, and are caught by the natives very dexterously. When they see them asleep on the water, a party of seven or eight go in a canoe, four of the party paddling very slowly and silently towards them, the others squatting on the fore part of the canoe, with a rope fastened to their arms, and only their heads above the side of the canoe. Upon getting near enough, the parties in the canoe suddenly leap out, and catch the turtle by the fins; by which they are then hauled into the boat. I have seen three caught at one time in this manner.

After I had resided some months on this island, a native died in one of the huts near Dupper’s. Upon his telling me of the event, he said he was certain something very dreadful would happen soon. This remark of Dupper’s startled me; for it was the first death I had known on the island, and I could not help thinking of the fate of the crew of the Charles Eaton. An idea once or twice entered my mind that harm was intended to me on account of the death of this man; but Dupper treated me just the same as usual. Soon after sunset I went to rest, still feeling very uneasy. I had not lain very long, when I heard a noise, as of a person rattling shells, and breathing very hard.

Dupper uttered a short sentence in a language which I did not understand, and quite different from that of Murray’s Island, and then himself and all that were in the hut, hid their faces in the sand. I asked Dupper what the noise was; he told me, the spirit of the dead man.

The next day, I and some of the natives, with little William, were sitting under a bamboo fence, close to the huts, when I heard the same noise a short distance off. On looking among the bushes, I saw two figures, the one red and the other white, with what appeared to be a fan over each of their heads. They began throwing stones at us; and the natives, who were about twenty in number, instead of getting up and driving them away, sat still, and seemed to be totally unnerved. The figures were very short, not larger than children fourteen years of age. I was told that they were the spirits of their departed friends.

I have since taken a great deal of trouble to ascertain what these figures were; for they made me very uneasy. I took particular notice of them at the time, and have searched through all the huts; but never could discover any traces of dresses similar to those worn by the figures.

The club is their principal weapon: with it they endeavor to strike the head; and one blow is generally fatal. Their spears, which they throw with great accuracy, are made of bamboo, with points made of sharpened shells. They also use them in their hand with great dexterity.

Their bows are very dangerous instruments of warfare; as they sometimes poison their arrows. Being naked, they often get a slight scratch from one of these, and as they have no remedy for the poison, they die a painful and lingering death.

I was one afternoon sitting upon one of the hills in the island, when I saw a ship coming round a point of the island. My thoughts now turned upon the possibility of reaching this vessel, which approached nearer and nearer, and appeared as if intending to stop at the island. There was a merry-making in the village on that day: but my desire to leave the savage life, prevented me from taking part in it as usual; in fact, I wanted to draw the attention of those on board to myself before the natives should see her; but could not tell how to do so, the ship being so far off.

I did not attain my object, notwithstanding all my endeavors. As soon as the ship was observed, Dupper, as he usually did when a vessel came in sight, painted my body black, with a streak of red on the bridge of my nose, extending along my forehead, over each of my eye-brows. My ears having been pierced on my arrival at Murray’s Island, his wife and daughters hung tassels, made of plaited grass, to them. They also put ornaments round my neck, body, arms, wrists, and ancles.

When the ship came near enough to us for their glasses to make observations, the natives broke branches off the trees, and waved them. I did the same myself, and, to my unspeakable joy, saw her come near to the shore and drop her anchor. I then thought my deliverance certain; but was sadly disappointed that no boat came off to the shore. I went down to the beach along with Dupper and William, and some of the natives, but still no boat appeared, and I waited till the night set in.

Next morning, soon after sunrise, several canoes went away to the ship, Dupper and myself being in one of them; William was left on the island. We were in the third or fourth that got along-side and we dropped directly under the stern.

A rope was thrown from the vessel into our canoe, and I caught hold of it, and tried to get on board by it. But I had sprained my wrist, by a fall, a day or two before, and waving the branch had made it exceedingly painful, so that I could not climb. One of the crew held out a roll of tobacco to me, but I could not reach it; so I asked him to lower the boat for me to get in.

The captain and officers were at that time bartering with the natives for curiosities and tortoise shell; they had one of the cutters lowered, but put their pistols and naked cutlasses into it. When the natives saw that, they thought mischief was intended to me and to themselves; they immediately let go the rope, and paddled towards the shore. I stood up in the canoe; but Dupper took hold of me and laid me down in the middle of it. The boat rowed a little way after us and then returned to the vessel.

A few hours afterwards, the boat came close to the beach, with, I believe, the captain on board, to shoot birds. One of the natives took little William on his shoulders, and went down to the beach, he walked towards the boat, and beckoned to the crew to come and take him.

I had often mentioned to the natives that the white people would give them axes, and bottles, and iron, for the little boy; I told them his relations were rich, and would be glad to give them a great deal if they would let them have him back.

The kind Murray Islander surprised and delighted at perceiving iron can be bent by fire.
See page 51.