Chapter Seven.

The breeze fell before we had entirely lost sight of the Pearl Islands, and, indeed, from aloft I could still make out the masts of the brigantine as she lay at anchor. It crossed my mind that Captain Myers might even now follow us; but I saw no indication of the vessel getting under weigh; still, daring ruffian as he appeared to be, he might be tempted to try and possess himself of the rich freight we carried. I did not mention the idea which had occurred to me to Harry, as there would be no use in doing so, for we were carrying all the sail we could set on the schooner, but our progress was very slow, and there was a possibility of our being becalmed again during the night. As we could see the brigantine, we also must still be visible from her mast-head, and Myers was probably keeping a watch on our movements. Should we be becalmed before sundown, it was possible that he might make another attempt in his boats to capture us, hoping to catch us off our guard.

“He shall not do that, at all events,” I thought to myself. “I will not say anything to Harry unless we are becalmed, and then I will tell him the idea which has occurred to me.” Our progress was so slow that I fancied there must be a current setting against us, but of this I was uncertain. The currents which set in various directions between the islands of the Pacific are among the dangers which voyagers in those seas have to encounter. I asked Tom what he thought about the matter.

“There may be a current,” he said, “but if there is one it is not of much strength. You see we are moving but slowly through the water. We’ll heave the log presently, and you’ll find that we are not going more than two knots, if as much as that.”

Tom was right; with his practised eye he could always tell in smooth water how fast the vessel was moving. We now went slower and slower, till at length the canvas hung down from the yards emptied of wind, and we had no longer steerage way on the vessel. Evening was drawing on, and we might expect to remain becalmed all night. We had, however, we supposed, plenty of sea room, and had no apprehension of being drifted on any unseen coral reef; I thought, however, that it was time to tell Harry of my apprehensions.

“The same thing occurred to me,” he answered. “However, I do not really suppose that the fellow Myers, ruffian as he is, will make the attempt after having found us before so wide-awake. Had we been unarmed the case would have been different, as he would have been glad enough to possess himself of our cargo, if he could have done so without the certainty of getting some hard blows. However, we will be on the watch as before, and ready to give his boats a warm reception if they attempt to molest us.” We enjoyed our usual pleasant evening meal, and afterwards had music, reading, and lively conversation till bed-time. The mate, meanwhile, kept watch, while I occasionally slipped up on deck to see if there was any prospect of a breeze springing up.

“Not an air in all the heavens,” answered old Tom. “It is better than having a westerly gale to drive us back towards the islands. Maybe we shall get a breeze before the morning, and slip along merrily on our course.”

“I hope so,” I said. “The captain wishes you to keep a bright look-out to the eastward, in case our buccaneering friends may be coming to pay us a visit.”

“Trust me for that,” said Tom. “I have not forgotten them, and the last words the captain spoke to that fellow Myers will make him more than ever eager to prevent our getting to Sydney. I don’t mean to say that he will take us, or that he has a chance of taking us, but he is very likely to try it.”

After the ladies had retired to their cabins, Harry came on deck.

“I have told them not to be alarmed if they hear us firing, for I am determined should the pirates make their appearance to stand on no terms with them, but, if I can, to send their boats to the bottom before they get up alongside.”

“A very right way, too, of treating them, sir,” observed Tom. “If we can sink their boats it might be the saving of the lives of many of the poor islanders, for, depend on it, when they have got all the pearl shells they can, they will be carrying off as many of the people as the brigantine can hold. I have seen something of the way those sort of fellows behave, and Sam Pest has been telling me more about it.”

The watch on deck were all awake, and the men below had been warned that they must be ready to spring up at a moment’s notice; the guns were loaded, and our other weapons were placed handy, ready for use.

As old Tom observed, “If they do not come, there’s no harm done; and if they do, why they’ll pretty soon find out that they’ve had their pull for nothing.”

As Tom had been awake the whole of the first watch, Harry told him to go below, observing that he and I would keep a look-out.

“No, thank you, sir,” answered Tom; “I will get my sleep by-and-by; I’d like to be ready in case the pirates should follow us.”

“You, Ned, had better then go below, as you cannot do without sleep, and you can be called if you are wanted.”

I was just about to do as he advised me, when old Tom, pointing to the eastward, towards which our starboard broadside was turned, exclaimed, “As sure as I’m an Englishman there come the boats, and I can make out three of them pulling abreast; we shall see them more clearly presently.”

The watch below, which had lately turned in, were soon roused up, and I called Charlie Tilston, as he had begged me to do.

“We will have the port guns over to the starboard side, and give the fellows a salute which will show that we are not to be caught napping,” said Harry. “All ready, there?”

He took charge of one gun, Tom of another, Lizard of the third, and I of the last. We waited till the boats had got as far as we could judge within range, and then fired together, aiming as carefully as we could. We then immediately reloaded, to be ready for them should they make a dash at us. Whether or not we had hit either of the boats we could not be certain, they still appeared to be coming on. Just then Harry exclaimed—

“Trim sails; here’s the breeze.”

The helm was put up, the fore-topsail blew out, the mainsail filled.

“Ease off the main-sheet,” cried Harry, and the schooner began to glide once more through the water. We watched the boats now right astern; they still kept following us, hoping not to let their prey escape them. We had two ports in the stern, through which our guns could be fired. Harry had them dragged over for that purpose, and we at once began to blaze away at our pursuers. For some time we could see them still following us, showing that they had hitherto escaped our shot. The breeze was freshening, the schooner ran faster and faster through the water.

“Hurrah! They have given it up,” I shouted, as I saw them pulling round.

“One more parting shot,” cried old Tom, and before Harry could stop him he fired.

“That was not a miss, at all events,” he cried out.

Almost immediately afterwards we could distinguish only two boats—evidence that one of them had been sunk. In a short time we had completely lost sight of them, and all fear of pursuit was over.

We had reason to be thankful that we had avoided a fight, for, desperate as the fellows were, many of us might have been wounded, if not killed, even though we had driven them back; the alternative of their succeeding was too dreadful to contemplate. Harry at once hastened below to assure Mary and Fanny that all danger was over. I now turned in, and though I went to sleep in a moment I kept dreaming all the time that the pirates were boarding us, that we were fighting desperately; sometimes Captain Myers was on deck flourishing a cutlass, singing, “I’m afloat, I’m afloat,” and the “Rover is free,” at others, with his cut-throat companions, he was struggling in the water while old Tom was pelting them with marline-spikes.

I was very thankful when I went on deck to find the schooner running on with a fair breeze, and no land anywhere in sight. Mary and Fanny, though they had been naturally very anxious, soon recovered their spirits, and everything went on as pleasantly as could be desired, Charles Tilston was well-informed, and made himself very agreeable, and though he had no intention of becoming a sailor, he soon learned how to take an observation, and could work it out as well as Harry himself. He was always ready also to pull and haul and be as useful as he could. He spent a portion of every day in giving Dick instruction in mathematics and other subjects in which his brother was somewhat deficient, and he also kindly offered to help me with my studies.

As Harry wished to obtain samples of such produce as the islands afforded, he had settled to visit those which were at no great distance from our course to the westward.

The first island we sighted after leaving the Pearl Islands was of considerable size, with a lagoon in the centre. We observed at the south-east end a broad entrance, through which it appeared we might pass without difficulty into the lagoon. Near one side was a village, and the whole island appeared thickly covered with cocoanut and other trees. As from this it seemed probable that we might obtain some palm-oil, the schooner was hove to, and Charlie Tilston and I, with Tom Tubb and three other men, pulled for the shore. As we approached we saw a number of natives rushing down to the beach, all fully armed; but they were not so savage in appearance as those who had prevented us from landing on the islands we had before visited. They shouted and gesticulated, however, making signs that we must not attempt to set foot on shore.

We, however, still pulled on, and as we got closer, Tom Tubb hailed them, and desired to know why they were so inhospitable. They answered—

“We know why you have come. Not long ago a vessel appeared and carried off a number of our people, and you will try to do the same; but we will prevent you.”

Our interpreter tried to explain that our object was simply to trade honestly; that if they had any cocoanut oil, we would give them a fair price for it.

“We will not trust you,” was the answer. “Go away! Go away!”

As we saw several of the people clothed in shirts, and some even in trousers, we had no doubt that a missionary was among them, though we could not distinguish him from the rest. It was, however, evident that they had been visited by a kidnapping vessel, and some of their people, probably Christians, had been carried off into slavery. Finding, notwithstanding all our protestations that we were honest traders, that the natives would not allow us to land, Charlie and I agreed that it would be folly to attempt doing so, and therefore returned to the vessel.

Soon after this we came off another island totally different to any we had before visited, being formed of corals that had been uplifted to the height of upwards of two hundred feet, and surrounded by cliffs worn into caverns. As no natives appeared, Harry did not wish to lose time by landing.

The islands of the Pacific present a great variety of forms, although the larger number are either partly or entirely surrounded by coral reefs. These reefs, however, vary in construction; some are called encircling reefs, when they appear at a distance from the shore, and a lagoon intervenes; others are called fringing reefs, which are joined to the land, and extend out from it without any lagoon. Others are denominated lagoon islands, when the reef itself, raised above the surface of the ocean, forms the land generally in a circular shape, and surrounds a lake or lagoon, which has sometimes a passage to the sea, and at others is completely closed. Then there are atoll islands; these rise within a large encircling reef, which is seldom perfect, having passages here and there through it. Sometimes there are elevations on the reef itself, forming islands; but frequently the reef is a wash with the sea. Besides these, there are the great barrier reefs which extend along the larger part of the eastern coast of Australia, part of New Guinea, and New Caledonia. Some of these are several hundred miles in extent. These countless reefs are all formed by the coral insect. The difference of their appearance is owing to various causes: some by the subsidence of the land; others by its elevation through volcanic agency. The encircling reefs have been produced by the subsidence of the land; they were originally fringing reefs, having been attached to the coastline of the country or islands. As the land sank, the insects went on building one generation above another; but they can only work in a certain depth of water—below which they die; thus a wall has been built up on the foundations formed by the original workers, who constructed a fringing reef. After a time, the last architects have died, storms have thrown up pieces of coral shells and other dÉbris on the top of the wall, birds have brought seeds of plants, the ocean has washed cocoanuts and other palm seeds on to the top: thus vegetation has been commenced, and finally groves of trees and shrubs have grown up.

The barrier reefs have been formed in the same way. Where no vegetation appears, the has probably sunk as rapidly as the creatures have built, and the sea has continued to wash over it. Other groups have been formed by the violent elevation of the land when the barrier reef has been broken into and wide gaps have appeared.

The last island we visited, surrounded by high cliffs, must have been formed by the sudden upheaval of the earth beneath it, so that the whole mass of coral was lifted above water. Such has been the origin of a considerable number of islands. The most beautiful and picturesque, like Tahiti and others in that group, owe their present shape to the subsidence to the earth, they being merely the summits of mountain ranges, probably of some vast continent, of which the lower land has been submerged. The gaps or openings in the encircling reefs are always found opposite to a river or stream. The coral insect can only build in pure salt water; the fresh water running out from the river has, therefore, prevented its upward progress; thus a gap in the wall has been formed serving as a safe entrance to the inner lagoon. Knowing these facts, it was easy to decide to which class the islands and reefs we passed belonged. There was always, therefore, matter of interest before us.

Volcanic action has been the agent of many of the islands to the westward, where several still active volcanoes exist. Many of those in that direction are clothed with the richest vegetation. They are inhabited by dark-skinned races; still the most savage among those of the Pacific, such as the New Hebrides, Santa Cruz, Solomon Islands, and New Ireland, to the eastward of New Guinea. They produce the finest sandal-wood, and Harry determined to visit some of them, in order to obtain a supply before returning home. He had, however, settled to call first, as I have said, at the islands, where he hoped to be able to purchase palm-oil.

The first we reached after this was very similar to those already described. The natives, as we appeared, came off to the schooner in their canoes, and invited us to enter a secure harbour into which they offered to pilot her. Several of those who boarded us were dressed in shirts, and one of them spoke a sufficient amount of English to make himself understood. He said that two native missionaries were settled on the island, and that all the inhabitants were Christians. They had also, he added, a good quantity of palm-oil, of which they would be glad to dispose. Harry, therefore, without hesitation, accepted their invitation, and we brought up within the outer reef, at no great distance from the shore.

None of the people now cared for the trinkets and other trumpery which they formerly so greatly sought for, but desired to have cotton goods, axes, knives, carpenters tools, fish-hooks, cooking utensils, and other things required by a civilised community. They also asked for paper, pens and ink, and copybooks. We had, unfortunately, no Bibles or other books in their language, or we might have disposed of a good number, so eager were they to procure them. They all behaved, when on board, in a quiet and sedate manner, though they were evidently merry fellows, for we saw them laughing and joking among themselves. Their huts were larger and better built than any we had lately seen, and those we visited were remarkably clean and tidy; yet one of the missionaries whose acquaintance we had made, and who could speak a little English, told us that the people a few years ago were as savage as any of those in that part of the Pacific. We bought a dozen casks of palm-oil at a fair price, calculating the value of the goods we gave in return. The people said if we would come back they would have a further quantity with which to supply us.

We warned them about the Wasp, and gave them a minute description of her, so that should she appear they might avoid being entrapped. They replied that they had heard of such vessels cruising about to carry off the natives, but that none had visited their island, and that they had therefore doubted of their existence. They thanked us much for warning them, and promised to be on their guard. We advised them to be cautious how they went on board any vessels before being acquainted with their character.

The next island off which we called was also inhabited by Christian natives, who supplied us with six casks of oil.

I have not space more minutely to describe the islands we touched at. Wherever missionaries were established, there the people were more or less civilised, industrious, and happy. They had not ventured to lay aside their weapons altogether, as they might be required to defend themselves against the nefarious proceedings of lawless white men; but as soon as they found that we came to trade honestly with them, they put them by, and mixed among us without the slightest sign of fear, not even attempting to keep their women out of our sight.

When Mary and Fanny landed, the latter gathered round them, expressing their wonder at their dresses and fair complexions, we felt indeed that we were among friends who could be thoroughly trusted.

Having obtained as much palm-oil as we required, we now steered to the south-west for Vavau, one of the Friendly Islands, of which the civilised King George is the ruler. We made it early in the morning, and, the wind being fair and the harbour easy of access, without waiting for a pilot we stood on, having two small islands on the eastern side, and a larger one to the westward. Vavau appeared of uniform height. At first we did not see many signs of fertility or cultivation; the cliffs rose abruptly from the sea without a fringing reef; but the water had worn the coral rocks, which stand out from the shore, into the shape of huge mushrooms on their stalks. When once we were inside, however, signs of the most industrious cultivation showed themselves. The country was covered with woods, looking like one vast garden, while from every village came the sound of the mallet, used by the women in beating out the native cloth. At a wharf not far off were several large double canoes taking in cargoes for another port; beyond could be seen a number of comfortable-looking houses. Numerous huts of smaller dimensions peeped out from among the trees, while at some distance apart were buildings of considerable size, which we afterwards found to be churches. Altogether we felt that we had come to a civilised country.

Soon after we had dropped anchor, an old native gentleman came off in a large canoe, and introduced himself as the Viceroy of Vavau, and begged to know the object of our visit. Harry replied that he had come to refit the schooner, but should be happy to trade if we could procure any of the articles we required. The old chief said that the people would be ready to receive money as payment for any of their produce, that they had cotton, and palm-oil, and Beche-de-Mer, cocoanuts, native cloth, and various other articles, and that they could supply us with an abundance of hogs and goats, and vegetables of all sorts at a cheap rate.

We were received, as we had been at Samoa, by the white inhabitants in a very kind way, but as Harry was anxious to refit the schooner as soon as possible, the two ladies, under the escort of Charlie Tilston, could alone be much on shore. We, however, managed to see something of the country—the roads in course of construction in all directions across it, the cotton plantations and well-cultivated gardens, and many other signs of the industry of the people. The greatest novelty was the manufacture of the native cloth, or Tapa, formed out of the bark of the paper-mulberry tree. The natives universally wear it for clothing, and as it cannot stand any amount of wet and is easily spoiled, there is a constant demand for it. It is manufactured entirely by the women. The young tree is first cut down and the bark is stripped off; it is then steeped in water for a couple of days, when the inner is separated from the coarse outer rind. This is then beaten by a mallet, resembling a square razor strop with small furrows on the under side, till it becomes almost as thin as silver paper, and of course is greatly increased in size. Even then it is scarcely a foot wide, but the edges are overlapped and stuck together with arrowroot melted in water; it is then again beaten till all the parts are completely joined. Pieces are thus made of many yards in length. A mucilaginous dye is then used, both to colour the cloth, and further to strengthen it, until large bales are formed of a single piece, from which portions are cut off as required for use. Some of those we saw were fifty yards long and four yards wide. When thus formed, it is called Tapa or Taba, a name by which it is generally known among all the islands of the Pacific. It is afterwards beautifully coloured, sometimes by a stamp, at others by painting it by hand, when it is known as Gnatu. A coarser kind, worn by the common people, is made from the bark of the bread-fruit tree.

A number of canoes came alongside, bringing turkeys, fowls, eggs, and a variety of fruits and vegetables, among which were pine-apples, bananas, yams, sweet potatoes, cabbages, and onions. Besides cotton, the natives produce tobacco for their own use, and probably, before long, cotton manufactures will supersede the Tapa. Although the former will be more useful, it has not the elegance of the native cloth.

We visited a chapel built in the native style; it was upwards of a hundred feet long by forty-five wide, and nearly thirty high. It had a high-pitched roof, with curved ends, and two rows of columns, each three of the lower column supported a short beam, from which sprang a second series bearing the ridge-pole. These, as well as the horizontal beam, were beautifully ornamented with cocoanut plait, so arranged as to give the appearance of Grecian mouldings, of infinite variety and delicate gradations of colour—black, with the different shades of red and yellow, being those employed. Altogether the effect was very artistic and pleasing.

The Tongans are said to be the best canoe builders and navigators in the Pacific. One of the chiefs exhibited, with some pride, a large double canoe, which consisted in the first place of a canoe a hundred feet in length, and half a dozen or more in width; the second canoe was composed of a tree hollowed out for the sake of buoyancy like the canoe, but was, in reality, merely an outrigger. The large canoe was formed of planks lashed together with cocoanut plait; beams were then laid between the two, on which was erected a house for the stowage of provisions; above this rose a platform surrounded by a railing, forming the deck of the vessel. It had been built by Tongans in the Fijis, where suitable timber could alone be procured. These vessels, frail and unwieldy as they appear, are navigated in the face of the trade wind between two and three hundred miles, the Tongans making voyages to Fiji and also to Samoa. We were told that six years are required to build one. The sail, formed of matting, is triangular, spread on a long yard. The vessel is never tacked, but the sail is lowered, shifted over, and again hoisted when beating to windward.

We made the acquaintance of a young chief—greatly resembling our Samoan friend Toa—who offered to show us some interesting caverns which exist along the coast. The distance was too great for the ladies to venture, as we had to perform the voyage in a small canoe, and should be away the whole day; but Harry told Charlie and Dick Tilston, Nat and me, that we might go.

We started at daylight in two canoes, with an ample supply of provisions on board, Nat and I accompanying the young chief Alea. He could speak a little English, and gave us an interesting legend connected with one of the caves.

Years ago, a chief had rebelled against the king of the country, when, being defeated, he and his family were condemned to death. He had a very beautiful daughter, who had a lover belonging to another family. Having gained intelligence of the intention of the king to exterminate the family of his beloved, he hastened to her, and managed, without being discovered, to carry her on board a small canoe which he had in waiting. She asked how he could possibly hope to escape by such means from the vengeance of the king, who would destroy him as well as herself. He told her not to fear—that he had a place of concealment, where, notwithstanding the most vigilant search which could be made for her, she would never be discovered. They paddled away till they reached a cliff which rose out of the water.

“I see no cavern in which I can be concealed,” she said.

“Fear not; I will conduct you to one, notwithstanding,” he answered, and, taking her hand, desired her to leap overboard.

Trusting him to the full, she obeyed; and, both diving, they swam for some distance, till they rose in the centre of a large cavern with rocks, free of water, on one side of which there was sufficient space to rest. Here he told her that she might remain secure, and that he would bring her food every night, till he could make arrangements for their escape to Fiji. He had discovered the cavern, he said, not long before, when diving for a turtle. He was unable to fulfil his promise till he came, one night, and told her that a large double canoe, with friends of his, was waiting outside. They were soon on board, and arrived safely in Fiji, where they remained till the death of the king enabled them to return to Vavau. From this legend Byron draws a romantic account of Neuha’s Cave in his poem of “The Island.”

As our friend had not described the first cave to which he took us, we were surprised and delighted with it. The mouth was of considerable width, sufficient to admit two or three boats abreast. Once inside, the water was fully five fathoms deep. We here found ourselves amid columns and stalactites hanging from the high-domed roof, resembling Gothic arches. The bright sunlight streamed down through the wonderfully clear water, and was reflected up from the sparkling stones and coral at the bottom, with a beautiful series of light tints, and shades of delicate blue and green, over every part of the walls and vaulted roof. We agreed that it was the fit abode of the most charming of sea-nymphs and mermaids; indeed, we almost expected to see some of the fair ladies seated among the rocks, combing their hair. At the further end there was an arched passage, sloping upwards till it reached an opening in the roof above. Some of our companions landed, and made their way up it, now appearing, now disappearing among the rocks, the effect in their progress being singularly picturesque and scenic. On their return, after visiting another smaller cave, we made sail for Neuha’s cavern. On arriving at the spot, we in vain looked for any sign of the entrance, till the chief pointed out to us two poles placed crosswise, which, he said, marked it.

“Now, which of you would like to accompany me into the cavern?” he asked. “You must be prepared for a long dive.”

Neither Charlie nor Dick Tilston were willing to venture, on hearing how long they would have to hold their breath. At last I agreed to go, the chief undertaking to keep hold of my hand, and to conduct me in safety. On looking down, with our backs to the sun, we could see a darker patch than usual among the coral-covered rocks, some eight feet below the surface: this was the entrance. We had brought a long line, which was secured to one of the canoes. A follower of the chief’s, taking the end, jumped overboard. By watching him carefully we saw him disappear in the midst of the dark patch. He was absent for about ten minutes, and he said that he had made the line secure in the inside of the cavern. After he had rested a little while, the chief asked me if I was ready, when, he and his follower taking me by the arm, we dived downwards, the chief keeping the end of the line in his hand to guide us. I held my breath and struck out with my feet, but my companions had some difficulty in keeping me down sufficiently to avoid scraping my back against the sharp points which project from the roof of the passage. As the whole distance was thirty feet, I was so much exhausted by the time I reached the surface inside the cavern that I could not at first admire its wonders. My companions helped me to a ledge of a rock just visible in the dusk, where we stopped to rest ourselves. The subdued light within the cave was derived entirely from the reflection through the mouth of the submerged passage, and I was at first afraid that I should scarcely be repaid the exertion I had made and the risk run. Suddenly, however, the chief leaped into the water, and began swimming about, when the phosphorescent light produced by his movements was more beautiful and brilliant than anything of the sort I had ever seen. Wherever he went he was followed by a stream of liquid fire. When both the natives were in the water, the light was sensibly increased, so that I obtained some notion of the size of the cavern. It was, however, at the best, a somewhat dreary place of captivity, and the poor girl who inhabited it must have passed many an anxious hour, uncertain whether her lover would be able to return and bring her her daily allowance of food and water, and help her finally to escape. I owned that, having once performed the feat, I did not feel that I should be inclined to pay the cave a second visit. I therefore, as I sat on the rock and pictured to myself how the lovely Neuha had passed her time, took in every visible object; then, feeling rested, told the chief that I was ready to return to the outer world. I own that I had some slight apprehension of encountering a shark on the way; but I felt tolerably satisfied that my companions would send it to the rightabout, if they did not kill the monster.

“Now I’m ready,” I said.

The natives then, seizing my arms as before, dived with me almost to the bottom, and, while holding my breath, I felt myself carried along, this time escaping the roof. With infinite satisfaction I saw the bright sunlight overhead. We rose to the surface close to the canoe, and I was hauled on board, pretty well done, however, to receive the congratulations of my friends. The account I gave did not tempt them to make the experiment. After landing on some rocks to discuss the viands we had brought, we pulled back the way we had come, and late in the evening got on board the schooner.

Chapter Nine.

We had what might prove a long and dangerous voyage before us, while we were almost overwhelmed with the anxiety we felt about the fate of the schooner. We could see the first island we intended to visit just rising out of the water, blue and indistinct, and as it was calm we had to depend upon our oars to reach it, but we hoped before long to get a favourable breeze which would send us on our way. The sun struck down on our heads with intense force, but we were too anxious to think about it. I proposed that we should relieve each other at the oars, so that we might continue pulling, if necessary, all day. Jack Lizard, Potts, and Tubb declared that they would not allow us to do that.

“If you like to change places now and again with Dick, and his brother takes a turn with the oar, it is all very well; but we are born to it, as it were, and it makes no difference to us if we pull on all day,” said Jack.

Fortunately, after we had pulled a couple of hours and the island of Mota was fading in the distance, a breeze sprang up, and we were able to stand on under sail. At length, towards evening, we got near the shore, and seeing a number of natives on the beach, we hoped that we might obtain information from them as to what had become of the schooner; for, had she been driven past the island, they must have seen her.

“We take care,” said Tubb, the New Zealander. “I not like dere looks; dey not friends.”

The people had hitherto been quiet enough, and I had observed no signs of hostility; no sooner, however, did we approach the shore than they assumed a warlike attitude, dancing and gesticulating in the wildest manner, while they yelled and brandished their weapons as a sign to us that we were to come no nearer. As it would have been madness to have attempted landing in the face of such hostile demonstrations, we put the boat partly round, and pulled on parallel with the shore, but at a respectful distance. As we did so, we saw the natives running along the beach, every now and then making threatening gestures as a warning to us not to land.

“They may be savages,” observed Charlie; “but they cannot be called treacherous ones, or they would have allowed us to land and afterwards murdered us.”

We continued along the coast, hoping to come to the mouth of some harbour in which we might find the missing schooner. No harbour appeared, and everywhere, whenever we stood in closer than before to the beach, the natives, gathering in numbers, ordered us to keep off. We had now no choice but to remain at sea during the night, for we could not hope to reach the next island within several hours. We therefore stood away from Inhospitable Island, as we called it.

Fortunately the weather remained fine, and the coolness of the night was pleasanter than the heat of day. A distant volcano, which threw up a continuous column of flame, enabled us to steer a direct course, and, as the breeze was very light, we did not expect to reach Aurora Island, which we intended next to visit, till morning. Jack Lizard and I took it by turns to steer, for I was rather afraid of trusting Charlie Dick Tilston, lest a sudden squall might strike the boat and send us over. Our minds were too much occupied with the thoughts of the schooner, or rather of those on board her, to enable us to talk on any other subject Charlie Tilston every now and then tried to get up a lively conversation, but found that he could not succeed. All night long we glided smoothly on.

“I hope that we shall be treated in a more hospitable way by the inhabitants of the next island we visit,” he observed.

“We cannot be very certain about that, sir,” observed Sam Pest. “I have been up and down these islands, and I have seen the way white men have treated the blacks. No wonder they ain’t friendly, for there’s not a village scarcely where some of the natives have not been carried off, while others have been fired on and the people killed. We must make them understand that we come as friends, or we shall have no chance of getting anything out of them.”

By daylight we were close up to Aurora Island. The inhabitants had seen our boat approaching, and had gathered on the beach to receive us. They probably thought that our vessel was not far off, round a point to the westward.

“Come, I think we have a chance of a friendly intercourse with these people,” observed Charlie; “and if you like, I will land and try to have a talk with them by signs. Neither Tubb nor Potts seem to understand their language better than we do.”

Although the natives waved no green boughs, and kept a short distance back on some high ground above the beach, yet, as their women and children were with them, and as they made no hostile demonstrations, we concluded that we might safely land. We therefore ran the boat on to the beach, and Charlie, stepping out, moved a few paces from them, and sat down on a rock. In a short time six or seven persons came down to where he was sitting, apparently inclined to hold a palaver, Sam Pest all the time watching them narrowly.

“Take care, sir,” he shouted, “or they’ll play you some foul trick.” The next instant he added, “Jump up! Run for your life down to the boat!”

As he spoke I seized a musket, and old Sam took up another and presented it at the natives, to cover Charlie and enable him to get back to the boat. Just as he sprang up, I saw a young native in the act of lifting a club as if about to strike him; but the suddenness with which Charlie started up and retreated to the boat prevented the savage from dealing the intended blow. Charlie springing on board, we shoved off, and lay on our oars at a safe distance from the beach. This was a bad commencement, and there seemed but little chance of our obtaining any information from them. When the natives saw our guns pointed at them, they quickly retreated, and though we did not fire, and made signs to them to return, nothing would induce them to trust themselves near us.

“I am afraid, from what Sam says, that we can expect no better reception wherever we go. But we must not complain of the poor natives,” observed Charlie; “they are thorough savages, it is true, but would probably have received white men with gladness, if the white men had from the first treated them properly, and tried to win their regard.”

“That may be so,” I remarked. “But we must not forget how the far less savage inhabitants of the Friendly Islands treated the shipmates of Mariner, and would, it is said, have treated Captain Cook and his companions, if they had had the opportunity. Their conduct, in some instances, is owing to debased human nature, rather than to a spirit of revenge, though undoubtedly in many the white men have been the aggressors.”

Finding that we were not likely to establish a friendly intercourse with the natives, or to gain any information about the schooner, we pulled away from the beach, and steered before the wind for another island which we saw to the westward. Although our hearts were full of anxiety, and our thoughts were occupied with the task in which we were engaged, we could not help admiring the beauty of the islands amid which we were sailing. We found the water very deep round the beach, from which the hills rose abruptly, clothed with a dense vegetation. Cocoanut trees grew in the greatest profusion, not only on the shores, but frequently up the sides of the hills, and were seen in clusters at the bottom of the valleys running inland. There were also many other fine timber trees, while graceful ferns and flowering shrubs formed a dense undergrowth over all the uncultivated parts of the country. The water was so transparent that we could see the fish swimming about as we looked over the side of the boat. We had, fortunately, some hooks and lines, and as nearly anything served for bait, we were able to catch as many as we could possibly eat. The difficulty was to cook them, as we could not venture to land on any spot where there were natives. Our fear also was that we might run short of water; thus, although in the midst of abundance, we might perish of thirst, or by the hands of the savages.

“We must manage to land somewhere,” cried Dick. “Perhaps if we were to pull in to the shore towards evening, we might escape detection, and have time to cook our fish and find water before the natives are down upon us.”

“Although there may be some risk, I do not see what else we can do,” said Charlie. “We must, however, keep a strict watch while we are cooking our food, and not attempt to sleep on shore. We shall probably be able to obtain some cocoanuts in addition to the water, so that we may keep at sea, without the necessity of landing again, for several days.”

As this plan seemed feasible, we determined to adopt it.

“The island out there, for which we are steering, is of considerable size, and there must surely be some parts uninhabited,” observed Charlie.

“I hope so,” I said. “As there are a good many missionaries scattered about, we may drop upon some island where one is established; and, if so, we shall be better off than we should if we landed at an uninhabited part; besides which, we may possibly gain tidings of the schooner.”

The breeze was light, but yet sufficient to enable us to run on under sail. We had miscalculated the distance to the island, for, the hills being high, it appeared nearer than it really was. We were still some way off the shore when the sun set; the wind also fell, and we had to lower the sail and take to our oars. This, however, was the best thing we could do, as we had less chance of being seen, should there be any people on the shore. The moon rose as we neared the land, and gave us sufficient light to distinguish objects, so that we might pick out a place into which we could run the boat. Seeing no fires or lights, we began to hope that we should not meet with natives; we therefore pulled in, placing Tubb ahead to look out for rocks. The part we first made appeared too rugged to allow us to venture on; we therefore rowed along the shore for some way, till a small sandy bay, just suited to our purpose, appeared. We accordingly steered in for it, keeping, as before, a careful look-out ahead. The ground rose abruptly almost immediately beyond the beach, on which no surf was breaking; but I fancied that I heard a rushing sound of water falling probably over the cliffs close at hand, though a thick grove of tall trees concealed it from our sight.

“We could not have discovered a better place,” said Charlie, in a cheerful tone. “We may here remain securely till morning, and get some sleep without being cramped up in the boat. I should not be surprised either if those are cocoanut trees, and, if so, we may get a good supply.”

We now rowed into the bay, Tom Tubb feeling the way with the boat-hook, so that we might not run the risk of staving in the bows of the boat. At length our keel grated on the smooth sand, and jumping out, we quickly hauled up the boat. Tubb and Sam Pest then went on, the latter carrying a musket, to survey the neighbourhood, and to ascertain if there was any path by which an enemy might come suddenly down and surprise us; they were also to look out for water. We meantime collected driftwood and dry branches from under the trees to make a fire. We placed a pile some way up the beach close to the grove of trees, so that the flames might be concealed by the overhanging cliffs and hills on either side, and thus, although there might be natives in the neighbourhood, we might escape being seen. We had got our wood ready to light when Sam and his companion came back.

“There’s only one part, away to the left, where anybody, unless they’ve got wings, can come down,” said Sam. “We must keep a look-out on it, and we shall have time, if many of the savages appear, to get the boat into the water and shove off before they can reach us. One of us had better keep guard there, and we shall be safe enough.”

They had also discovered a waterfall, which came down over the rock at an easily accessible spot, where we could fill the kettle we had brought with us. We accordingly spitted the fish which we had caught in the morning, though already they were not as fresh as we should have liked, and put on the kettle to boil, to make some tea which the missionary had given us. Following Sam’s advice, we at once placed Jack Lizard on the look-out at the spot he had mentioned; we then cooked and ate our supper, and sent Tubb to relieve Jack. This done, we spread the boat’s sail on the oars and boat-hook, to make an awning under which we could sleep; the sand was hot and dry enough so that we required no other bedding. It was arranged that we should relieve each other every two hours, and thus all might get a good spell of sleep. Had it not been for our anxiety about the schooner, we should have enjoyed our adventure. We had scarcely given a thought about ourselves, or what we should do, should we not find her. Our only idea had been to return to Mota; but from that island we were already at a considerable distance, and bad weather might come on before we could reach it. A few years before this, however, we should have been in much greater peril, for there would have been no place for which we could steer with any certainty of meeting with a friendly reception. It was sad to think that generation after generation had passed away, during which these beautiful islands had been inhabited by savages, to whom no one had carried the light of the Gospel; and that, even now, only on a few isolated spots were missionaries established, few of whom, owing to the numerous difficulties in their way, had made much progress.

As we had all been awake during the previous night, scarcely had we thrown ourselves on the sand than most of us were fast asleep. It appeared to me that I had scarcely closed my eyes when I was summoned by Charlie to keep my watch. Although I might have excused myself, as being in charge of the boat, I did not wish to do that. He told me that he had heard no sounds to indicate that any savages were in the neighbourhood. I took the musket which he handed me, and kept pacing up and down on the top of a bare mound, beyond which the ground sloped upwards towards the interior, as far as I could make out in the darkness. I thought it prudent, however, to cast my eye towards the other side of the bay, for it seemed to me that there was a way along under the cliffs at low water. It was arranged that should the sentry see any one coming, he was to shout to the rest of the party, who were to launch the boat, while he made the best of his way to join them. This might appear a very timid proceeding, but, considering the savage character of the natives, it was the only safe mode of showing them that we had no hostile intentions. We might thus also the better be able to gain their friendship.

Day broke while I was still on watch, and I could now distinguish the nature of the country. It was thickly wooded in all directions, with hills, or mountains, indeed, rising to a considerable elevation; and I was thankful, on looking at the grove, to see that the trees were loaded with cocoanuts. However, I would not quit my post till I was relieved, as it was far more important to keep a look-out now than it was during the night. Looking towards our camp, I saw Charlie on his feet, arousing the rest, and Dick soon joined me. I, of course, charged him to keep a vigilant look-out, but on no account to fire, even although the natives might appear with arms in their hands, and make threatening gestures when they saw him.

When I got back to the camp, Charlie proposed that we should push off and catch some fresh fish for breakfast, as the remainder of those we brought with us were no longer fit to eat. The boat accordingly shoved off with the four men and Charlie, while I remained on shore with the other musket in my hand, that I might be ready to assist Dick if necessary. Much sooner than I expected, the boat returned with a sufficient number of mullet and bream to afford us food for the whole day. As we were all very hungry and I had made up the fire, we quickly cooked them, and I was just about to send Jack Lizard to relieve Dick, when the latter shouted—

“Here come some people; but there are only three or four fellows, and I cannot make out exactly who they are.”

I quickly joined him, when I saw four men coming down the valley. Three of them were undoubtedly savages, but the fourth had some clothing on, and was taller and bigger than the others. He carried a huge knotted club in one hand, and a spear in the other. The rest of the men were also armed with spears. The first, from his dress and ornaments, was apparently a chief, but I was puzzled at his general appearance. On his getting nearer, though his skin was brown enough, I observed that it was very much lighter than that of his companions. Dick and I stood with the butts of our muskets on the ground, while we shook our handkerchiefs with our other hands. As the strangers got nearer, to my surprise the apparent chief shouted out—

“Hilloa! Who are you? What brings you here?”

“We came in to get water and fresh provisions,” I answered. “And now I’d ask who you are.”

“Why, as to that, I’m Prime Minister, High Priest, and Doctor Extraordinary to the king of this ’ere country,” answered the man, who I now saw had been a white man, though certainly I could not call him so now.

“Very glad to meet you, friend; for some of the people in these parts are not very hospitable to strangers, and we have found it difficult to land to cook our food and stretch our legs, without the risk of being knocked on the head.”

“Couldn’t say, if I had not been with them, but what my people here might have treated you in the same way,” answered the stranger, “Howsomedever, I will come and have a palaver with you, and hear the news, for I have not set eyes on any white chaps for I don’t know how long.”

Of course we told our new friend that we should be glad of his company, and he, followed by the blacks, went with us towards the boat.

“You don’t happen to have any liquor aboard?” he asked. “It is a mighty long time since I have tasted a drop.”

I was obliged to confess that we had no spirits, though we had still some of the tea the missionaries had given us. He looked much disappointed, and made a remark about the missionaries which I need not repeat. They were evidently not in his good graces.

He and his companions had seated themselves before the fire, when we gave them some tea sweetened with sugar, which seemed to their taste. They also condescended to eat the remainder of our fish, though the white man told us they were precious badly cooked. I saw Sam Pest looking at him while he was eating. At last Sam, seating himself by his side, said—

“Well, Dan Hogan, you seem to have forgotten me.”

“No, I haven’t, now you speak, though I do not know what I might have done if you had not opened your lips.”

Though the two were old shipmates, they did not even shake hands, but sat eagerly talking together for some time, regardless of the rest of us. I could scarcely make out what they said. Sam, at last getting up, came towards me, and said—

“This ’ere old shipmate of mine has given me some news which you will be glad to hear for one thing, though not for another. The schooner has got safe into port, and is not far off from this.”

“Safe!” I exclaimed, my heart bounding with joy, and I shouted the news to Charlie and the rest.

“Safe into port, but I did not say she was safe,” said Sam. “In the first place, from what he tells me, she’s carried away her mainmast, and seeing that she cannot put to sea, some of his black friends have made a plot to get hold of her, and if they do, they’ll not leave any of those aboard alive. The captain, I know, keeps a sharp look-out; but they’re cunning rascals, and will try, if they can, to circumvent him.”

“How far off is she? How soon can we get there?” I asked eagerly. I could feel my heart beating as I spoke.

“He says about thirty miles, more or less, round the coast, though it is little more than a quarter of that distance across country.”

“Then couldn’t we go over land, and warn my brother?” I asked anxiously.

“Why, bless you, we should be knocked on the head by the first black fellows we might meet,” answered Sam. “Our only chance is to go round by water, and I hope we may get there before any mischief is done.”

“Then we have not a moment to lose,” I exclaimed. “But we must ask your friend to exert himself, and try to save them. Perhaps, when they hear that we are engaged in honest trading, they may be induced to abandon their design.”

I spoke to Hogan, who, however, shook his head, as if he thought the attempt would be useless, though he promised to do what he could.

“You will understand, friend, that we shall be happy to reward you for any service you can render us, and you must point out to the natives that, should they commit any act of violence, they will be sure before long to be punished. British men-of-war are about to cruise in these parts for that very purpose, though, perhaps, the natives have never seen or heard of them as yet.”

Hogan looked greatly astonished at hearing this, and exhibited some alarm himself. He promised, however, to tell the people, though he tried to persuade us that he could not be answerable for what they might do.

As every moment might be of importance, I wished him good-bye, and ordered the men to launch the boat. I observed that Sam parted from his old shipmate in a remarkably cold manner, as before, not even shaking hands with him. We immediately shoved off, Hogan and his companions standing on the beach, and watching us as we pulled out of the little bay, and soon afterwards I saw them going back by the way they had come. Hogan, I should have said, had minutely described the harbour in which the schooner lay, so that I had no fear about finding the place, if we could reach it before dark.

Chapter Ten.

Nearly two hours of daylight had already gone by, and as there was at present a perfect calm, we should have to depend on our oars alone. I explained to the men that it was a matter of life and death to arrive as soon as possible.

“Never fear, Mr Ned,” answered Jack Lizard. “We’ll make the boat fly along as fast as our oars can send her.”

As Dick had a sharp pair of eyes, I stationed him in the bows to look out for rocks; for, of course, to shorten the distance, we had to keep close to the land, or, rather, just outside the breakers, which, as we advanced, we found dashing on the shore. As we had had a good breakfast, we did not stop to dine, but Charlie handed round a mug of water, that the men might moisten their lips. As I sat in the stern-sheets holding the yoke-lines, I felt as if I was steering in a race; and so it was—a race against the machinations of the treacherous savages; but I trusted that we should win, and be in time to warn Harry of their evil intentions. I was pleased with the way the men behaved, evidently exerting their strength to the utmost, and even old Sam did not utter a complaint. As we pulled on, I eagerly looked out for each point or headland, hoping that it might be the one beyond which we should find the harbour.

Everywhere the country was covered with trees. Sometimes there were cliffs, and at others the land rose in bold slopes almost from the water’s edge; but nowhere did we see any coral reefs. This was owing, Charlie said, to the existence of a volcano, which we observed somewhere in the interior, sending forth clouds of smoke and ashes, occasionally bright flames darting up, though scarcely visible in the sunlight. The lava, he said, rolled down into the sea, and so heated the water that it prevented the existence of the coral insects. Here and there were small sandy bays, in which canoes were drawn up. On observing them, I feared that some might come off and interfere with us. However, our boat was so small an object, and being without a sail, the natives probably scarcely observed her as we glided rapidly by. Perhaps they might have taken her for some marine monster, or other fish which had just risen above the surface. Occasionally we had to cross a broad bay, when we were, in consequence, at a considerable distance from the land; but I took care to examine it carefully, so as to be sure that the harbour we were searching for was not within it.

Night was drawing on. We had been pulling, we calculated, for not less than seven hours, and must have been going at the rate of four knots an hour. Charlie thought that there might have been a current against us, or, perhaps, we had scarcely made good the four knots as I supposed, or else that the distance was greater than Hogan had told us. As yet, however, we had seen no indication of an opening. A tree-covered point was before us; we steered for it.

“Perhaps we shall find the harbour on the other side,” said Charlie.

The men had not lately been pulling as fast as in the early part of the day; and no wonder, for their arms were becoming weary with their exertions. Still they went on.

“Never fear, sir,” cried Jack Lizard. “We’ve got some go in us yet. Cheer up, lads, cheer up; let us give way with a will again.”

The point was rounded when we saw what Charlie and I felt nearly sure was the entrance to the harbour. We were already steering for it when we made out half a dozen canoes, which had just rounded the opposite point, and soon came paddling towards us. They might have had no unfriendly intentions; but, at all events, we were anxious not to encounter them. As we pulled on, we became perfectly convinced, by the appearance of the land, that we had discovered the harbour we were in search of. The canoes were coming up with us, and it seemed doubtful whether we should get into the harbour before them. Our men, though they had previously appeared too much fatigued to pull longer, redoubled their efforts, and point after point was passed, when at length I was gladdened by the sight of the schooner at anchor.

I raised a shout of joy. “Hurrah, hurrah! There she is!” I exclaimed.

“And there are the canoes!” cried Jack Lizard. “But we’ll be alongside her before they’re up with us.”

Harry, who was on deck, saw us coming, and presently Mary and Fanny came up, and Nat, and waved to us. We were quickly on board, and rapidly exchanging accounts with each other. Harry had been as anxious about us as we had been about him, for, as he could not tell whether we had put off from Mota before squall came on, he feared that we might have been exposed to its fury.

The canoes, seeing us safe on board, turned aside and paddled for the shore. Whether or not they had had any intention of attacking the boat, this showed us that they believed the schooner was able to defend us.

Harry said that he had been compelled to be very strict with them, although he had hitherto remained on good terms. He had held to his rule of allowing only a few men to come on board at a time, and he had made these leave their arms in the canoes, while, as soon as evening drew on, he compelled all on board to return to the shore. When I told him of the warning Hogan had given us, he replied that he had brought the natives into such good order that he did not think they would attempt any act of treachery.

“That is just what Sam was afraid of,” I observed. “Their object, by pretending to be quiet and friendly, is to throw us off our guard. However, now that the schooner’s crew is strengthened by our arrival, perhaps they’ll abandon their designs.”

He told me that he had been arranging with a chief for leave to cut down a tree from which to make a mainmast. “It will take some time,” he continued, “but it must be done, and as the natives cannot cut down the tree, we must manage to do it ourselves. It did occur to me that, while we were thus engaged, they might think it a favourable opportunity to attack us, unless we are on our guard.”

“From what Hogan told Sam, we were much afraid that they might attempt to cut you off even before our arrival,” I observed. “The old sailor had, by some means or other, gained intelligence of their designs, although he acknowledged that he was very uncertain whether he should be able to put you on your guard in time to save you.”

“One thing is positive, that we cannot leave this harbour till we have obtained a mast. And we must have it, therefore, at all risks,” said Harry.

“I advise that we should get hold of a chief, or some other person of influence, and keep him as a hostage on board, while our people are working on shore,” said Charlie Tilston. “The wildest savages know what that means, and will not venture to attack us while we have a chief in our power.”

“A capital idea!” said Harry; “but the question is, how are we to bell the cat, or rather, get hold of a chief?”

“I will go on shore with Sam Pest, and try to induce one of them to come off,” said Charlie. “It would be useless to take either the New Zealander or the Sandwich Island man, as neither of them speak a word of the language of these people, but Sam can make himself understood.”

Harry thought that there was much risk in the undertaking, but Sam, when told of the plan, was ready enough to go, and I begged that I might accompany Charlie, as I did not like the idea of his going alone. We were all to be well armed, and to be on the watch to prevent any savage from getting behind us—this, should they have any treacherous intentions, they were sure to attempt doing. Charlie proposed carrying a few articles to present to the chief, with the promise of others, in exchange for provisions and such things as we should require, if he would come to receive them. This was considered more politic than carrying on the trading first, and promising the presents afterwards, as the chief might doubt whether they would be delivered. From what we gleaned from Sam, they had more than once before been tricked by white men, who had come into their harbour, and were therefore likely to be suspicious of our intentions.

As soon as the plan was arranged, Charlie and I, with Sam, Jack Lizard, and two other men, shoved off and pulled for the shore. As we approached, we found a number of savages armed with clubs, collected on the beach. We pulled slowly, looking out for one who, from the ornaments he wore, and his general appearance, might prove to be a chief.

“That’s the fellow we want,” said Charlie, pointing out a man who wore an ornamented head-dress and breastplate, with a necklace and rings round his arms. We waved, and made signs to him to approach, and we steered the boat directly towards where he stood. Charlie then held up several articles he had brought. The chief seemed to understand our object, and ordering his people to stand back, he advanced without hesitation. We accordingly ran in the boat; Charlie and Sam stepped on shore, while Jack Lizard and I sat with our muskets in our hands, ready to cover them should they be attacked. Charlie then presented first one article and then another, and Sam tried to explain, as far as his knowledge of the language would allow him, our object to the chief, who seemed highly pleased, and stepping back, exhibited the gifts he had received to his attendants. Sam then gave him to understand that we had many more of the same description on board. At first, I was afraid that he would not consent to accompany us; but at length his cupidity overcame his fears, and Sam, advising him to come lest others should obtain the goods we had to dispose of, he stepped into the boat.

As it was evident that she could not well carry more than one person besides ourselves, Sam made signs to the others that we could not take them on board, and at once pulled away from the beach. This showed the savages that we had not come for the purpose of kidnapping them. The chief, however, looked somewhat nervous, and I was afraid might, after all, jump overboard, and swim back to the shore. I told Charlie, therefore, to try and occupy his attention by showing him some of the other articles which we had brought. What interested him most was a telescope, through which, having adjusted the focus, we made him look at his friends. He almost let it drop in his astonishment at seeing them so near, and had not Charlie held it, it would have fallen overboard. He looked through it again and again, each time expressing by signs his wonder, and of course utterly unable to comprehend how the objects he saw through it were brought so near. I was very glad when we got him safe alongside.

Stepping on deck, he gazed about him with almost as much astonishment as he had exhibited when looking through the telescope. Harry stood ready to receive him, and told Sam to say how happy he was to have him come on board. We then showed him some of the articles which we had brought for trading, and gave him to understand that a certain number of them should be his, as soon as the mast was ready. Sam also was told to explain to him that till then he must remain on board, and that, should his countrymen offer any violence to our people, he would be the sufferer. He seemed to understand this perfectly well. The difficulty, however, was to let the natives know why we had carried him off, as we could not allow him to return to tell them so. The only way of accomplishing our object was to bring off one or two more natives, who might convey any message he desired to send. After some persuasion, we induced him to go down to a spare space in the hold, when some food likely to suit his taste was placed before him, and the mate and Dick sat down to eat with him.

As soon as they were thus engaged, Charlie and I shoved off, and pulled for the shore. At first the natives, though they had been eager to accompany their chief, seemed unwilling to embark; but at last we persuaded two to trust themselves with us. On pulling back we amused them as we had the chief, and as soon as they got on board we conducted them down below. We placed some food before them, and when their meal was over, we got Sam to try and explain to them that we intended to keep their chief as a hostage, while our people were on shore cutting down the tree; that he would be well treated, and ample payment made to him. They seemed to understand this clearly, and after they had had a conversation with the chief, we told them that we would convey them back to the shore. They appeared to be in no way dissatisfied with the arrangement, and willingly got into the boat, leaving their chief on board.

“Please, sir, we must keep a sharp look-out on that chap,” observed Sam, “or maybe he’ll jump overboard and swim ashore.”

“He’ll lose the goods we promised him if he does,” said Harry.

“But he does not think so; for he knows the schooner cannot get away, and he expects to take her some dark night, then to get hold of everything on board.”

“We will not stand on any ceremony with him, then, but keep him safely under hatches till we get the mast aboard,” said Harry.

We at once landed the two natives, who explained to the rest our object in keeping the chief. This did not appear to surprise them, nor did they show any unfriendly feeling towards us, but continued to bring down fresh provisions, till we gave them to understand that we had as much as we wanted. As there was no time to be lost, the carpenter, and men to assist him, at once went on shore to cut down the tree. Charlie and I accompanied them to superintend the operation. Notwithstanding the pacific behaviour of the natives, we considered it prudent to go well armed, and to keep a vigilant watch all the time on their movements. As the tree we required was not a large one, it was quickly cut down, and the branches and bark being chopped off, we commenced dragging it towards the water. None of the natives, however, offered to assist us. We had got to within about a hundred yards of the beach, when we saw a number of natives collecting on either side, with clubs and spears in their hands; and at the same time we observed, to our dismay, a fleet of canoes paddling towards the schooner. We had too much reason to fear that a simultaneous attack was to be made on us and her. Providentially, our boat, which lay hauled up on the beach, had not been touched, and we determined therefore to make a rush for her, and to try and reach the schooner before the canoes could get alongside, as, if once on board, we might hope to defend her against any number of assailants.

“Whatever we do, let us keep together,” cried Charlie.

Presenting our muskets at the natives, we ordered them to keep back, and while he and I retreated with our faces towards them, the men rushed on to launch the boat. Still the savages well knew that after we had discharged our pieces we should be defenceless. They hesitated, however, no one wishing to be shot, and we were able to get the boat off and to leap into her. Still it seemed very doubtful whether we could gain the schooner before the canoes. Scarcely, however, had we shoved off from the shore, when I caught sight of a white sail appearing over the point which formed the southern entrance to the harbour, and almost immediately afterwards a large vessel appeared, steering directly for it. The natives saw her; her appearance evidently disconcerted them, for, instead of continuing their course towards the schooner, they paddled away for the shore.

The breeze being fair, the stranger came rapidly on, and, shortening sail, brought up a short distance outside where the Dainty lay. Harry immediately sent me alongside to tell her captain what had occurred. I found that she was a whaler, which had put in for fresh provisions and water. As she carried four guns and a numerous crew, the captain said that he had no fear of the natives; besides which, he well knew how to deal them, though he confessed that he might have been deceived had we not warned him of their treacherous conduct. The first thing to be done was to get off the spar intended for our mast. He accordingly sent a couple of boats well armed to assist us, and lent us his carpenters, who quickly shaped it as it was required. Our captive chief, on being told of the meditated attack of his countrymen, looked very much alarmed, believing that we should in consequence put him to death. We gave him to understand that we had no intention of doing so, and that, as we had obtained the spar, we would pay him and send him on shore, hoping that he would induce his countrymen to behave in a friendly way to white men in future. This, as far as we could understand, he promised faithfully to do. Landing him on the beach, we shook hands, and let him go his way with the goods he had obtained. Next morning, he and a number of his people appeared, loaded with provisions of all sorts, and before the day was over the whaler obtained as much as she required. The natives kept at a respectful distance during the time her boats crews were filling the casks with water. With the assistance of the captain of the whaler we got our mast stepped and rigged, and both vessels sailed together.

We heard nothing more during our stay of Hogan, or what had become of him. Probably he fell a victim to the jealousy of the natives—a common fate of so many white men who have abandoned themselves to a savage life. Parting from the whaler, we made the best of our way to Sydney, where Harry immediately gave information to the authorities of the piratical cruise of the Wasp.

Having disposed of our cargo, we returned to Brisbane, where we found that everything had been going on in a satisfactory manner.

Charles Tilston, instead of going home, resolved to settle there, and, as I had long suspected would be the case, made an offer to Fanny Amiel, who accepted him.

Dick and I, with old Tom Platt and Jack Lizard, made several successful trips in the Dainty; but our sisters-in-law agreed that interesting as had been their voyage, they did not wish ever to make another. I need not say the adventures we met with have often since served us as subjects of conversation, and I hope that we were all grateful for our preservation from the many dangers we encountered.

I must confess, before I conclude, that I was induced to write the narrative of our voyage, not merely to amuse my readers, but to interest them in the dark-skinned inhabitants of the almost countless beautiful islands spread over the Pacific, and to induce them to give their warm support to the missionary efforts now making to convey the blessed light of the gospel to those savage races so long plunged in the utter darkness of heathenism. A wonderful work has already been accomplished. Thousands and tens of thousands of the Pacific Islanders have become civilised and enlightened; but much—very much—remains to be done, and I would remind my readers that they should consider it a privilege to help with their subscriptions to send men forth who are willing to engage in the noble and glorious undertaking.

The End.