When we came to Darnley’s Island, Dupper left me in the charge of a native of that place, named Agge, telling me he was afraid that the New Guinea people would steal or murder me. The party did not stay long on this island, for the next morning they left me, not expecting to see them again for a month.
How great was my surprise, when on the following evening, Dupper returned to the island where he had left me. I asked him whether he had changed all his shells so quickly, or whether any thing serious had happened, that he had come back so soon.
He told me that they stopped at an island called Jarmuth, to pass the night, and that a quarrel ensued between one of the natives of that island, and a Murray Islander, named Newboo, and Dupper’s two nephews, about a pipe of tobacco. Another of the natives of Jarmuth had attempted to take from one of the Murray Islanders his moco, an ornament worn round the calf of the leg, made of the bark of bamboo.
These outrages had caused a fight with bows and arrows, in which several of the Jarmuth people were wounded, and one of them shot through the body; but none of the Murray Islanders were hurt. On this account the voyage was not taken, but we all returned to Murray’s Island.
About three days after this, the Jarmuth people sent a message offering peace; but it was not accepted, and they were still unreconciled when I came away.
The time of our deliverance, however, which we had so long given up as hopeless, was now near at hand. The years we had passed among the savages had not taken from my memory the scenes of home, and happiness, and England; but since the departure of the last vessel that touched at the shore of the island, the thoughts of my friends and relations had come to my remembrance as forcibly as if it was only the day before that had been passed in their company, and in my mind it was but a week since events of the most pleasing kind had happened; and I had brooded over these reflections till my body had wasted to a mere skeleton, through the melancholy exertions of my mind; aided, no doubt, by the sickness which neglect, thus involuntarily induced, had attacked my weakened frame.
I used to delight to tell William about his father and mother; how they left a far off country in a large canoe; and of the storm, when he was nearly killed; how his mother kissed and fondled him to her bosom, when I brought him to her. Then that he had a brother, who came with us in the ship and played with him, till in the storm the ship was wrecked and broke to pieces; how we all were nearly starved to death; and at last escaped on the rafts; that his father and mother, and nurse, with many more men, were killed by the natives of Boydan: and we had left his brother there among the savages, and had not seen them since; and of Dupper’s buying us, and bringing us to this island, and how kind he was.
These recitals would bring tears into the eyes of my young wondering listener, showing that the impression was made upon his mind. How his tears pleased me! His simple questions upon these occasions were answered with an eagerness which showed with what deepness thought had fixed them on my memory. I need not add, how these things made me love the infant that God had thus thrown, as I thought, into my charge; nor how I resolved to endeavor, as far as my means would enable me, to cherish and protect him in his helplessness.
I had asked Dupper to enquire what had become of George Doyley and John Sexton, if he should at any time happen to meet with one of the natives of Boydan. He could not learn any tidings for a long time; but at length he told me that he understood they were both dead.
Some time after this, I heard two of the natives conversing, and one of them said that the youngest white boy at Boydan, (this was George Doyley,) had got sick and died; and that the other one (John Sexton,) had been speared by one of the natives.