Early in the morning the captain came on shore with three men, to fell the tree, leaving two only on board, with orders to be on their guard if he fired a shot, or they suspected anything was wrong. The interpreter accompanied him, and to show his confidence in the islanders he ostentatiously, but with seeming carelessness, threw his arms down at the foot of a tree, remarking to the captain that the old chief and boys and women seemed rather frightened at the sight of four armed white men, who also carried axes. Somewhat unwillingly the captain and his men followed suit, and then even permitted the children to carry their axes for them.
The interpreter walked on ahead with the old chief, apparently talking on nothing of importance, but in reality telling him with great glee of how he had succeeded in lulling the captain's suspicions. Presently the whole party reached the thicket in which the well was situated, and as the path was narrow they had to walk in single file, the children who were carrying the axes falling behind. And then suddenly, and almost without a sound, thirty or more stalwart savages, led by the young Kaibuka and his uncle, leapt on the unsuspecting white men, who in a few seconds were clubbed to death before even they could utter a cry.
“Now for the two on the ship,” cried the renegade to young Raibuka; “go, one of you women, down to the shore, near the ship, and cast a stone into the water as if at a fish, and the women on board, who are watching, will kill them as easily as we have killed these.”
As he turned, an axe was raised and buried in his brain, and he pitched head foremost down the bank into the well—dead.
“Let him lie there,” said one of the leaders; “throw the others after him, and wait for two more.”
The two poor seamen on board the ship were ruthlessly slaughtered by the women in a similarly treacherous manner, their bodies brought on shore, thrown down into the well with those of their shipmates and the renegade, and the whole depression filled with sand and coral slabs, till it was level with the surrounding soil.
Whilst this was being done by one lot of savages, another was looting the vessel of her cargo of trade goods, which was rapidly transferred in canoes to the mainland. Then, as her capturers feared to set fire to her, knowing that the blaze would be seen by the natives of Apaian, ten miles away, they managed to slip her cable, after cutting a large hole in her side at the water-line. Long before sunset she was still in sight, drifting on a smooth sea to the westward; then she suddenly disappeared, and nothing was ever known of her fate, and of the awful ending of her hapless captain and crew, except what was known by the perpetrators of the massacre themselves.
Such was Niâbon's story of Te Mata Toto, and both Lucia and myself were glad to get away from the immediate vicinity of the tragedy, and return to our camping place near the boat, where we found both Tematau and Tepi awaiting us with some fine mullet, which I supplemented later on by a few plover. In the afternoon, whilst the women slept, the two men and myself cleaned our firearms, and attended to various matters on the boat. At sunset the breeze came away freshly from the old quarter—the south-east—and by dark we were at sea again, heading due north for Makin, the most northerly of the Gilbert Group, which was eighty miles distant, and which island I wanted to sight before keeping away north-west for the Caroline Archipelago, for there was a long stretch between, and I was not too brilliant a navigator.