As the second night came on boisterously, Mr. Whidbey was compelled to seek shelter. The Indians, understanding his design, hastened to shore in advance, got possession of the only safe beach, drew up in battle array, and stood with spears couched, ready to receive the exploring party. (This was on the northern part of Admiralty Island.)
Here appears the most delicious piece of unintentional humor in all Vancouver's narrative.
"There was now no alternative but either to force a landing by firing upon them, or to remain at their oars all night. The latter Mr. Whidbey considered to be not only the most humane, but the most prudent to adopt, concluding that their habitations were not far distant, and believing them, from the number of smokes that had been seen during the day, to be a very numerous tribe."
They probably appeared more "stupendous" than any snow-covered mountain in poor Mr. Whidbey's startled eyes.
To avoid a "dispute" with these "troublesome people," Mr. Whidbey withdrew to the main canal and stopped "to take some rest" at a point which received the felicitous name of Point Retreat, on the northern part of Admiralty Island—a name which it still retains.
In the following month Mr. Whidbey was compelled to rest again upon his extremely humane spirit, to the southward in Frederick Sound.
"The day being fair and pleasant," chronicles Vancouver, "Mr. Whidbey wished to embrace this opportunity of drying their wet clothes, putting their arms in order.... For this purpose the party landed on a commodious beach; but before they had finished their business a large canoe arrived, containing some women and children, and sixteen stout Indian men, well appointed with the arms of the country.... Their conduct afterward put on a very suspicious appearance; the children withdrew into the woods, and the rest fixed their daggers round their wrists, and exhibited other indications not of the most friendly nature. To avoid the chance of anything unpleasant taking place, Mr. Whidbey considered it most humane and prudent to withdraw"—which he did, with all possible despatch.
They were pursued by the Indians; this conduct "greatly attracting the observation of the party."
Mr. Whidbey did not scruple to fire into a fleeing canoe; nor did he express any sorrow when "most hideous and extraordinary noises" indicated that he had fired to good effect; but the instant the Indians lined up in considerable numbers with "couched spears" and warlike attitude, the situation immediately became "stupendous" and Whidbey's ever ready "humaneness" came to his relief.