He then told me that some white men who had come on their shores in a boat had taught them a great deal.
"Then will you go back to your land with me?"
He said he could not swim so far, so I told him he should help me to build a boat to go in. Then he said, "If you go, I go."
"I go? Why, they would eat me!"
"No, me make them much love you."
Then he told me, as well as he could, how kind they had been to some white men. I brought out the large boat to hear what he thought of it, but he said it was too small. We then went to look at the old ship's boat, which, as it had been in the sun for years, was not at all in a sound state. The poor man made sure that it would do. But how were we to know this? I told him we should build a boat as large as that, and that he should go home in it. He spoke not a word, but was grave and sad.
"What ails you?" said I.
"Why you grieve mad with your man?"
"What do you mean? I am not cross with you."
"No cross? No cross with me? Why send your man home to his own land, then?"